


Bridge Over Troubled Water

by chunni



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Age Difference, Amnesiac Bill Cipher, Angst, Bottom Bill Cipher, Dipper Pines Has Issues, Dipper Pines Is In Denial, Enemies to Lovers, Fashion Designer Mabel Pines, Fights, Graphic Description of Corpses, Horror, Human Bill Cipher, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mystery, Older Dipper Pines, Older Mabel Pines, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Reincarnation, Sharing a Bed, Top Dipper Pines, but not in the way you might think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2020-03-05 13:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18829177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chunni/pseuds/chunni
Summary: 20 years after the brightest summer of his life Dipper Pines reaches his lowest point yet. Without a job, without Mabel, without a future, is there the possibility of change when he meets someone who should not exist anymore?The meeting is followed by a series of old and new questions and all of them lead to a familiar place in Oregon.Dipper is forced to return to the town he only wanted to forget.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched this nearly perfect little series and couldn't resist the urge to write this story! I'm sorry... I hope there are still people reading this pairing? 
> 
> By the way, Human Bill is inspired by wamaiiwoods's because I love their art. 
> 
> (Please tell me if you find any spelling mistakes as I'm no native speaker)

**Chapter 1**

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~

~

„I don’t want to see you ever again, Pines,” the brawny, bald man growled, his face tense enough that Dipper was able to see a vein twitching at his temple. The man, Jeff F. Bishop, let go of the open cardboard box as if it were a rotten apple and Dipper barely managed to prevent its content from spilling on the floor. He gulped, hands clasped around the cardboard. His gaze only roamed for a second over the interior before rising again. To look at Mr. Bishop, his boss.

Or rather ex-boss.

Dipper clenched his teeth, narrowed his eyes but he couldn’t say anything, had already tried too much. He had lost his job and there was no way he would ever get it back. His heart twisted inside his chest but not because he had liked this job. Who liked sitting in front of a screen day for day, hour for hour? To type out lists or survey statistics or check orders? Without using one’s mind, without changes, without breaks?

It shouldn’t have surprised him that he had been fired. Mr. Bishop hadn’t spoken one friendly word to him in all the time he had spent here working with less and less hours of sleep. It had only been a question of time. His mind knew that.

Another time he would have been happy to leave the lonely, ugly office with its ugly, old computers behind, but leaving them also meant leaving his job. A job that meant a regular income, that gave him the security of being able to pay his bills. He hadn’t needed to check his bank account at every walk into the supermarket, hadn’t needed to skip meals.

Dipper sighed. He felt as if the floor dissolved with every step a little more. He murmured a short goodbye but his ex-boss probably didn’t notice as he had already turned around to leave the room.

Dipper’s legs felt like they were made of rubber as he left the building. His chest was a black hole that threatened to suck him in and the corners of his mouth sank down a little more. It only got worse, just worse and worse. He had a one-way ticket to the bottom and no idea how he could get to the top again. When had fate been on his side the last time? When had he last been really, truly _happy_?

Dipper blinked as his sight got blurry but he somehow managed to hold back the tears. Or maybe they just evaporated into the freezing autumn air. A chill ran down his spine, his fingers trembled and he thought for a moment that the box would meet the floor after all. The air seemed a few degrees colder as he inhaled sharply.

When had he last seen Mabel? He couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember? Jesus, he must know it, mustn’t he?

The first signs had already shown themselves in school. It had become obvious that their interests would lead them in different directions but somehow he had never thought that they could be really separated. There was always the internet, right? There were mobile phones and cars and planes.

But life had punched him in the face and shown him that it _was_ indeed possible.

When Mabel had founded her fashion brand, Dipper had encouraged her, had supported her as well as he could and despite his final exams. When _Starry Spark_ had been discovered and promoted by a French model, the label conquered most of the world in just a few weeks and Dipper had been glad. _Really_.

At least until he had to realise that his help was no help, that he wasn’t needed, that Mabel didn’t have time, that she was always travelling. That the valley between them was only growing with every day that Dipper couldn’t find work, that his stomach turned because his sister had to pay his groceries or rent _again_.

He had fled from her.

He had written and sent applications over applications. When he had been lucky he had received rejections, otherwise no response at all.

He had had to take every offer he could get and in the end it had been the job at the company of Mr. Bishop. He had had to do it because he had to pay the rent of his tiny flat, because he had to live, somehow, because life went on, right?

He had nothing left now.

Why, oh why had it come to this?

Dipper Pines was 33 years old and in that moment he wished for nothing more than being able to curl on the floor and cry like a child.

But he was no child anymore. No adventurer, no hunter of knowledge and monsters, no half of the _Mystery Twins_.

Dipper closed his eyes as images of a warm summer twenty years ago flew by his inner eye. That summer with its bright colours that shined all the more in comparison to the cold grey of his environment that almost seemed to be out of a black-and-white film. That summer that, despite its dangers and conflicts, had been one above all: fun, friendship and love. That summer in _Gravity Falls_.

It had been too long, long enough that it almost appeared to be a dream. And Dipper didn’t want to be reminded of that time. It hurt to think of it.

He hadn’t noticed that he had stopped in the middle of the pavement until something _or someone_ collided with his shoulder.

“Oh, damn,” Dipper yelled when the box in his hands leaped up and down just to slide through his fingers and finally tumble to the earth, its content flying across the asphalt. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, made his heart jump inside his chest. _Great_. Just what he needed right now. Why was anything always going wrong?

 _Once again_ Dipper felt tears burning in his eyes, his hands clenched to fists. When he opened his mouth, he wasn’t proud of his voice passing through a few high tones that could barely hide his state of mind. “Can’t you pay attention to where you’re going?”

He hadn’t thought that the person that had bumped into him would stop, let alone responding. In a city like this anonymity and passivity were not only common but also wanted. However, Dipper was surprised because a second later there were words echoing through the air that made him freeze on the spot.

“Don’t pee your pants, Pine Tree, there’s nothing valuable in that box anyway, eh?”

_Wha-?!_

For a moment Dipper couldn’t form a thought, his mind empty, his body cold and rigid. That voice wasn’t distorted and only seemed to remotely resemble the one that froze his blood and twisted his insides like bent cable. Still, it provoked the same reaction because there was this name, this damned name. Although it hadn’t entered his mind since he had gone to university, he reacted to the sound as if someone had punched him.

The accentuation of the words, this nickname, they were too specific for another solution but Dipper could only whirl around with wide, unblinking eyes. Because that solution couldn’t be true, mustn’t be true. _Bill Cipher was dead._

Dippers breath caught in his throat as he faced the creature in front of him. Until he blinked frowning.

There was no flying triangle. There was no sole eye staring at him with an uncomfortable intensity. The man in front of him didn’t even wear a hat or bow tie.

He was tanned with short, blond hair that must have been slicked down in the morning. However, a few strands had loosened and were being blown across his forehead by the wind. He couldn’t be older than 25.

Dipper felt his skin prickling as he realised that he had to have misheard the words. He had to, hadn’t he? That was a human, no demon _, a human_. He had thought of Gravity Falls and somehow these thoughts had conjured this name, had led him to believe in something that wasn’t there. That must be it. Right?

His heart sank down when he met the gaze of this stranger and all of a sudden there were doubts whispering in his mind.

The eyes were light brown, light enough that they appeared to be yellow rather than amber, and the pupils were thinner than they should be. Different but subtle enough that he only realised it at a second glance. Dipper was reminded of an optical illusion, only that he didn’t feel like it was an illusion.

He wet his lips, watched as these eyes narrowed but not out of anger but rather to a face that someone confused by a situation would make. Honestly confused.

“Eh, do I know you?”, the man murmured exposing extraordinarily sharp teeth and Dipper _knew_ this voice. Although he hadn’t been sure before, the certainty almost overflowed him now. His spirit seemed to vibrate as if it refused to believe in what was happening.

Dipper clenched his teeth to prevent himself from screaming. Was this a joke? Was this a nightmare? Could it really be Bill Cipher, the demon that had tried to conquer the world twenty years ago only to receive the last blow at the hands of the Pines family? The demon that should be dead?

The demon that was somehow made a human?

Dipper hadn’t noticed that he shook his head until the world leaped to the sides in front of his eyes but he wasn’t able to stop the motion. He only froze when a thought entered his mind like a punch in the gut.

What if Bill had returned somehow to possess a human and played dumb just for the fun of it? What if he let go of this masquerade any minute now to take revenge on Dipper for what happened twenty years ago?

“Get lost!”, Dipper hissed trying to ignore the ice clawing around his chest that made it difficult to breathe. “You’re gonna regret it if you move as much as your little finger to harm me. Don’t you even think about it!”

For a second Human-Bill was only staring at him without blinking and Dipper noticed the thin lines beneath his left eye that looked like old scars, _that formed a triangle_. It didn’t look like a possession and somewhere in his heart Dipper knew that it wasn’t one.

Then, Human-Bill laughed, a snort that grew louder until Dipper was sure that everyone within a distance of this street had to notice it. “Wow,” Human-Bill chuckled rubbing his eyes with one hand until the sound faded to a grin. A grin that was only a tad too wide. _Brr_. “I almost _hope_ I’m the one you’re thinking of.”

Dipper paused as the tension left his limbs although he didn’t lower his guard completely. He narrowed his eyes, uncertain about what he should do. Could he be wrong? _Yes_. But what if he was right? Did he want to know the truth?

The decision was not his to take as Human-Bill reached out a hand to him. “The name’s Bill Cipher.”

Dipper felt his mind swimming, his heart skipping a beat, his muscles going numb, and for a second he was sure that he would tumble to the floor any moment now. He had seen a lot of crazy things twenty years ago but this topped it all. This _couldn’t_ be a coincident.

His gaze wandered to the reaching hand, the _human_ hand, and memories of the last time when he had shaken hands with _Bill Cipher_ flooded his mind. Unnecessary to mention that they weren’t good ones.

He didn’t want to shake this hand. He couldn’t have done it even if he wanted to because his muscles didn’t seem able to move, not even as far as a millimetre. His mind rewound the same questions over and over, questions he couldn’t find the answer to.

That was when the hand disappeared from his view. However, Dipper couldn’t frown about it as he felt it resting on his forehead a second later.

“You’re not ill, are you? I think I’ve never seen someone’s face matching the wall paint this quickly,” Bill said and Dipper recoiled from the touch as if it had burned him. For a second he had felt as if it had given him an electric shock.

“I’m not ill,” Dipper ground out but even to his own ears his voice sounded weak and croaky. He almost didn’t understand the words. It also didn’t look as if Bill did because he didn’t respond to them. Instead his expression darkened and he tilted his head, slowly withdrawing his hand.

“You _know_ me,” he stated, his voice strangely serious.

When a low scream echoed through the air, Dipper flinched for a second time. “ _Ah!_ Something… my head, something’s clawing… at my head… _clawing_ …“

Bill shook himself in a way that ruffled his hair a bit more before tapping with his hand against a point behind his right ear as if he could stop whatever was bothering him through the motion. A moment later he let out a low chuckle that didn’t sound right. Not exactly sad but not happy either. As if someone had tried to combine these feelings like colours but instead of a pretty new shade an ugly mess had emerged.

 „O-okay, _okay_ ,” Bill murmured moving his hands as if he wanted to calm an invisible crowd. “Alright, alright, alright. You know me, _Pine Tree_ , you-“

Dipper watched as Bill paused frowning and that couldn’t be an act. “Pine Tree? W-Why…? Why did I say that? I… _don’t_ … know… you…” With every word his eyes narrowed a bit more as if he was trying to find something that wasn’t there. “Do I?”

Dipper froze. What should he say? What could he say? His tongue lay lifelessly in his mouth and he felt a drop of sweat running down the line of his neck despite the cold.

“What’s your name?”, Bill hissed, eyes sparking like fire. “ _Tell me your name! NOW!”_

Dipper towered over him by about an inch and he was older by appearance. Despite that he felt the blood freezing in his veins. His mouth fell open without thinking about other possibilities.  
  
“ _Dipper!”,_ he exclaimed, glad that his voice didn’t quiver. „I’m Dipper Pines, okay?”

 “Dip-per _Pines_ ,” Bill repeated, any emotion erased from his face, the name drawn out enough to make it appear like a newly discovered word. In the next moment he grinned although there was a flicker in his eyes that looked suspiciously like uncertainty. “Dipper Pines, a pleasure to meet you!”

His eyes opened wide making his entire iris visible and Dipper had to suppress a shiver. “Now tell me, why do I know you?”

“We don’t know each other,” Dipper said trying to force any emotion out of his voice. “I’ve never seen you before.”

He averted his eyes to turn to the cardboard box, the box that was lying upside down on the floor. _Please, leave_ , his mind whispered. _Please, turn around and leave. Please, let me forget that this ever happened._

He knelt to grab papers and pencils with cold fingers putting them back inside. After a minute his breath had calmed, his heartbeat had returned to its usual speed. He sighed lifting the box upwards until he noticed that something was missing.

Dipper paused and his gaze flew across the floor, across asphalt and weeds. His heart jumped when he couldn’t find what he was searching for, and for a moment he felt too heavy to rise. “ _Where…_?” _,_ he whispered before he stood up with an effort that was harder to pull off than any exercise in the gym.

Only then, when he let his gaze wander across his surroundings, he realised why the picture frame was missing. He also realised that Bill Cipher hadn’t disappeared at all.

Bill’s hands were clenched around the wood, his eyes hefted on the photo as if this were the first time that he had seen a framed picture. His face twisted to a frown while Dipper tried to comprehend what was happening.

“Give it back,” he growled reaching out a hand. He had to suppress the urge to snatch the frame and run in the opposite direction.

“Hm.” The only sign that Bill had listened to him was a soft twitch of one corner of his mouth. 

Dipper noticed a migraine approaching at the back of his head. His muscles tensed as he opened his mouth but Bill beat him to it.

“How’s your sister?”

“My…?” Dipper snorted although his heart leaped up and down. He had enough. He grabbed the photo of him and Mabel with a fluent motion, almost expecting Bill to take it back a second later. However, nothing like that happened as Bill’s arms fell back to his sides.

Dipper had wanted to turn around but when his gaze fell on the picture in his right hand, he froze. His other hand pressed the cardboard against his chest that felt weirdly fluttery.

The _Mystery Twins_ grinned at him, Mabel all glittery and pink, himself with a blue-white cap and red shirt. Had he ever complained about eye circles? They were nothing against the sight that he was facing whenever he looked into the mirror of his flat.

He smiled in this picture but Dipper couldn’t even remember how it was to smile. He felt as if his face would only twist into a grimace if he tried. He had been happy back then. With his sister. With _Mabel_.

He hadn’t wanted to speak the word but somehow it had to have happened nonetheless.

“Where’s _Mabel,_ hm? Why isn’t she with you with the two of you having been that stuck together?”

For a second Dipper forgot about the fact that he was facing a strangely human Bill Cipher who had amnesia.

“We…” Dipper wet his lips, lost in thoughts. He couldn’t say what word he was searching for and somehow none seemed appropriate. Eventually he sighed. “We’ve grown apart.”

There was a silence in which the frown on Dipper’s face deepened and he wondered why the hell he hadn’t walked away already. If Bill hadn’t bumped into him he would have already put the box in his flat.

“That’s what you’re _saying_ ,” Bill said as Dipper threw the frame inside the box. “But you want to see her again, don’t you? If I had to guess I’d say that you’re feeling bad because you’re… you. With how you’re looking you don’t appear to live on the sunny side of life. You look like shit, Dipper, _Pine Tree_.”

Dipper’s fingers clenched around the cardboard. If he hadn’t been holding it he would have punched Bill in his damn human face, former demon or not. His eyes narrowed.

“I don’t need you to tell me that,” he growled although a part of him couldn’t resist being kind of impressed. _He’s right_ , that part whispered but he shut it down. “I don’t need anyone.”

Dipper gulped as their gazes locked for a second, Bill’s eyes still as intense as in the past, even with them being human ones. _A Human_. Bill Cipher had somehow become a human. A mistake? An accident? A… punishment?

However, Dipper had much bigger problems in all honesty. Problems that concerned him and his life directly. He didn’t want to get suck into this riddle because it would only remind him of a time that was over, a time that wouldn’t return, that _couldn’t_ return.

“I’m going now,” Dipper ground out and maybe these words were what made his muscles move, that made him turn around.

His steps were slow at first as if he was walking against an invisible storm but with every new metre it was getting easier to walk on. A part of him had expected Bill to follow him but there was no shadow in the corner of his eye. A feeling rushed through his body that he couldn’t name. Disappointment?

Only when he turned the next corner there were words flying to his ears, numbed by the distance but clear enough to understand them.

“Call _Shooting Star_ , okay? Call her.”

Dipper would have tripped but he managed to keep his balance in the last second. He snorted, quietly. It was no pretty sound. It was no happy sound.

Call. Call Mabel. When had he called his sister the last time?

Call. His heart skipped a beat only to jump across his chest.

Call.

Hm.

Maybe…

_maybe…_

maybe he should do that.

~

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~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, setting up the main plot points... I hope you like it :)

**Chapter 2**

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~

It hadn’t been easy to call Mabel.

When Dipper had used the number saved in his phone, a bored sounding man had answered asking him what kind of pizza he wanted to order. Dipper had stopped the call without even saying as much as his name. His stomach had twisted and he had felt so much like a total loser that he had almost burst out in tears then and there.

That was when he remembered that Mabel had changed her phone number after a period of harassing calls and she had given him her new one sometime ago. He clenched his teeth trying to remember when and how she had done so. In the end, it was luck that he looked around the kitchen and in doing so glimpsed at the top of the fridge. There it was.

Feeling a little less heavy Dipper rose to snatch the postcard depicting the _Sagrada Família_ that must have been lying there for about a week. Blowing off the dust he sighed when he spotted the series of numbers beneath lines of neatly written words.

Looking at the text he realised that he hadn’t read it when the card had arrived. He hadn’t had the time back then and thus he had put it on top of the fridge telling himself that he would read it later. It had never happened. What kind of a brother was he?

 _Hey, Bro-Bro, what’s up?,_ it began. Mabel almost immediately went on about some new friends of other labels she had met in Spain dropping a few words that must be common in the fashion world but to Dipper they could also have been hieroglyphs. Nevertheless, he felt a smile forming on his face. After typing the new number in his phone, he moved to throw the postcard away. Until he paused noticing a short PS, written at the side and almost ripped off.

_PS: I've learned_ _something that I might need to tell you about. I call you when I checked it, okay?_

Dipper frowned.

Why would Mabel write something like that? It wasn’t like her to be… almost _secretive_. That thing she had learned about, it must be something important. But what on earth could it be? Dipper couldn’t think of anything that might provoke such words.

Well, he wanted to call her anyway, so he might as well ask her about it then.

His heartbeat had been calm when he had typed the number but when the first tones rang against his ear, it sped up. Holding his breath, he waited for the familiar voice. He felt his heart sinking as the seconds trickled by and almost considered giving up. That was when the ringing stopped.

“ _Dipper!_ ”, Mabel yelled in a volume that made Dipper flinch. “I’m so glad you’re calling-“

“Don’t scream my ear off, Mabel,” he threw in before his sister could harm his eardrum permanently. “I’m not deaf yet.”

“Alright, alright,” she continued, voice noticeably lower. Dipper felt the corners of his mouth rising, warmth flooding through his body. He really _was_ doing it. He was talking to his sister, finally. Nevertheless, there was a whisper in the back of his mind that was wondering why she was giving in that quickly. A second later he got an answer.

“You need to come as soon as possible,” Mabel said, the spark of happiness that had rung through her words at Dipper’s name almost gone, voice firm, _serious_ , and Dipper felt his muscles tensing. That wasn’t right. She shouldn’t talk like that.

“People went missing and…“ Mabel paused and for a second there was only the sound of her breath, distorted by the phone and just a bit faster than usual. When she spoke again, her voice was almost too quiet to understand as if she needed to choke out the words. “I think it might have to do with… w-with… Grun-“

“Don’t,” Dipper ground out before Mabel could follow this series of words into a direction that he didn’t want to reach. Despite the warmth of the heater he felt as if someone had spilled a bucket of icy water over his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I… I thought you were in Spain, aren’t you? Wasn’t there this fashion week thing?”

“I’m not in Spain, Dipper,” Mabel murmured. “I took the flight back home about a week ago. I…”

Dipper felt his frown deepening, his heart jumping in his chest. He held his breath as Mabel continued but some part of him already knew what she was going to say.

“I’m in Gravity Falls.”

Dipper felt his face twisting into a grimace even before the words reached his consciousness. Something akin to bile gathered in his throat and he had to cough slightly to be able to speak.

“I thought we never wanted to talk about it again…,” he whispered. His legs began to shake, lightly at first, then severer, and he had to lean against the kitchen counter for support. His mind felt oddly numb as if a cloud were hiding his thoughts and he didn’t have the strength to fight it. He exhaled slowly, his gaze wandering across the dirty and dusty furniture without seeing it.

It took him way too long to realise that Mabel wasn’t answering, that Mabel wasn’t saying anything, that even her breath had faded to an almost inaudible sound as if she were trying to hold it. As if she were trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Mabel?”, Dipper asked right when a new wave of sounds surged through the phone. Sounds that made his flesh crawl, that made him feel as if there were an invisible claw curling around his neck. Sounds of hasty, stumbling steps rushing over twigs and leaves, running, _fleeing._

It only went on for a few seconds although it felt like an eternity to Dipper whose fingers were clenched around the phone like he wanted to break it. It only went on for a few seconds because that was when a jarring _crack_ vibrated through the receiver.

And then there was silence.

Dipper was frozen, his breath stuck somewhere between his ribs, his mind empty, his mouth dry. Only when he exhaled, loosening the tension of his jaw, he realised that he had bitten the inside of his cheek. He swallowed the spreading metallic taste but it only grew stronger until his whole mouth seemed to be filled with blood suffocating him.

“Mabel,” he whispered even though there was no way she could hear him. The call had ended. Someone or something had ended it, violently. “ _Mabel_!”

Dipper straightened himself fast enough that the world wavered, that the corners of his view blackened for a moment. That couldn’t be happening. That just _couldn’t_ be happening. Mabel was in danger, he knew it, he felt it and it felt like somebody had thrown him off a cliff with no way to stop the fall. Mabel was in danger and he couldn’t help her. He couldn’t help her because he was stuck in an ugly flat far, far away from that damned place where Mabel _was in danger_.

Why, _oh why_ did she go to Gravity Falls?

Why hadn’t she told him earlier?

_Why weren’t they together?_

Dipper clenched his teeth trying to fight the panic that build up inside his stomach like fire, burning through his veins. He wanted to scream, wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, all at the same time, and that was probably why he did nothing. He could only stand in the middle of the kitchen as every pretence of calm crumbled away.

 _Maybe she lost her phone_ , he tried to tell himself. _She’ll be fine. She’ll call me later complaining about the broken phone, surely. Surely. SURELY._

Or maybe she fought death while her brother stood uselessly at a kitchen counter. Maybe she would die because Dipper wasn’t there to help her. _Again_.

That was when his gaze fell on the cardboard box lying on the table. The cardboard box with an old photo of the _Mystery Twins_ , framed in wood. And he remembered why he had called Mabel in the first place.

 _Bill Cipher_.

That damned demon. Amnesia? Human? _Ha!_ There was no way in hell that he hadn’t known about _this_. Why else had he told Dipper to call his sister, using the old names and all? Surely it hadn’t been because he wanted to help. It couldn’t be.

He had to have known that Mabel was in danger. He was probably shaking with laughter right now. Laughing about that dumb Pine Tree that was losing everything he ever cared about _. Laughing_.

Dipper felt a new fire rushing through his body, a fire that tensed his muscles, that tinted his world in an ugly, screaming red. _I need to find him_ , shot through his mind and his face twisted, darkened. _I will find him and he will pay for whatever he’s done._

He threw on a dark grey coat before leaving the flat and running down the stairs with a speed that he hadn’t deemed possible before. It was only when he turned the corner where he had last seen Bill that he realised that he had absolutely no idea where to find him.

Dipper froze in the middle of the pavement and the wind blew his hair and the fabric of his open coat in all directions. His legs almost gave way when a surge of hopelessness and desperation whirled through his mind like a raging hurricane. It took all his willpower to keep standing and not to collapse on the floor.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , he told himself, clenching his hands to fists, fighting the spreading dizziness of his mind. He wouldn’t return to his flat until he’d found him. Bill couldn’t be too far from this spot, could he?

That was when an idea rushed through his mind, a crazy one, but an idea, nonetheless. At this point he needed to grasp at every straw that presented itself. If Bill was only playing with him, it probably wouldn’t work. But maybe, _just maybe_ , Dipper’s first impression had been true. With trembling fingers Dipper took out his phone to search the internet for a certain _Bill Cipher_.

He didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe a blood dripping font warning him to _trust no one_? Maybe no results at all?

He certainly hadn’t expected to learn that there not only _was_ a human named Bill Cipher but he also looked exactly the same online as he had in real life. Dipper eyes widened a bit more with every new piece of information.

The first result was from a high school graduation containing notes to each student and it didn’t take him long to find Bill’s.

 _Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one. - Albert Einstein,_ was written beneath a small picture of Bill grinning at the camera. Matching it with a white collared shirt he _was_ wearing a black bow tie this time and he was even winking closing one eye in doing so. It looked eerily familiar and strange at once and Dipper felt his skin prickling. He wanted to avert his eyes but something kept his gaze fixed at the photo.

His heartbeat went just a tad too quickly when he finally found the strength to read on scrolling down far enough not to be forced to look at Bill anymore.

 _Born August 26, 2012_ , it stated further on and Dipper froze. That date. _That date_. It had been just before his 13th birthday which also meant that it had been directly after Bill’s short-lived reign of Gravity Falls.

 _He really is reincarnated,_ Dipper thought even though he wasn’t sure what he should do with this knowledge. He clenched his teeth but he already felt flickers of doubt floating through his mind that began to dissolve his determination.

His breath caught in his throat as he shook his head closing his eyes for a second. He couldn’t let it affect his decision. He needed that determination, that anger, that fury, because what would be left without them?

Dipper closed the high school page without a second glance.

He frowned when he stumbled upon an article dating back to 2027 featuring Bill Cipher as the winner of some regional art contest. Dipper only read the headline before scrolling on. It was already hard enough to wrap his head around the idea that Bill was a human now. He really didn’t need to know what kind of art a reincarnated, teenaged Bill Cipher had made that had earned him a prize.

It also wouldn’t help him with his problem.

What _did_ help him, though, was the entry of an online phone book that revealed next to a phone number an address.

Dipper felt his heart skipping a beat as he realised that he knew the address. He had walked the street every time he had gone to work. Funny how they had been that close for such a long time without meeting, without even taking a peek at each other. Funny how they had met only in the last hours. _Funny_.

Dipper didn’t feel like laughing. Instead he let the phone fall inside the pocket of his coat and hurried down the street.

It didn’t take him long to find the address, he lived nearby after all. When he climbed the stairs leading to the plain apartment complex, his steps were heavy and clumsy. His eyes roamed over the names next to tiny doorbells until he found what he was searching for. At least he hoped that it was what he was searching for.

He pressed the button next to _Elisabeth Cipher,_ the only Cipher mentioned.

Weird enough, the door almost immediately buzzed open without a voice asking who he was or why he was there in the first place. However, Dipper couldn’t be bothered by such small details in that moment. He merely shrugged and stepped through the door, not nearly as rushed as he had been before.

Maybe it was because of his internet research but a part of him wasn’t sure anymore if he wanted to see Bill again. He felt more and more like it wouldn’t help him, not in the long run. But he knew that he wouldn’t turn around. If there was a chance, small as it might be, that Bill had something to do with what happened to Mabel, Dipper needed to know.

He took a deep breath before walking inside. According to the alignment of the names of the owners the Cipher’s apartment would be on the second floor. Forcing down the speed of his heartbeat and clenching his teeth, Dipper went straight to the stairs before he could change his mind after all.

When he reached the targeted floor, he was ready to look Bill Cipher into his damn human eyes, ready to yell at him if necessary, ready to persist until he had his answers. Dipper fully expected him to be standing in an open door, a grin twisting his lips and maybe a weird sparkle in his pupils.

That was probably why he paused when he wasn’t facing the former demon but an elderly lady smiling at him from behind the doorframe. A frown grazing his face, his thoughts twirled around his mind until he realised that the woman most certainly was Elisabeth Cipher. Dipper felt his skin prickling while he struggled to decide what he should say, what he should do. He didn’t want to drag outsiders into this mess.

Mrs. Cipher’s grey hair was pinned up to a tight bun that might have looked strict if it weren’t for the mass of pink hair clips scattered through it. Dipper couldn’t decide if they did or didn’t match with the dark red floral tunic but the gentle smile in her face told him that she probably didn't mind either.

Glancing at her wrinkled face Dipper felt himself frowning but it wasn’t until she spoke that he realised _what_ felt wrong about her expression.

“I’m sorry but you might need to wait a minute or two, darling,” she said in a calm, reassuring voice that made her seem younger than she probably was. _She can’t be Bill’s mother_ , Dipper realised although the thought felt strange in his mind as if he were thinking in a foreign language. It still felt weird to think of Bill as a human with human relationships and a human family. It didn’t feel right. For a moment he thought that he must be wrong, that Bill wasn’t living here, that the address was an error, that the shared surname was merely a coincident. Until Mrs. Cipher continued.

“My Billy is searching for his wallet but I’ll make sure that he’ll tip you generously. You may also come in and put the pizza on the kitchen table, if you want to.” Her eyes flickered over the hallway without focusing on Dipper, empty, greyish eyes, _blind_ eyes. Dipper’s heart skipped a beat just to lie heavy inside his chest and he had to suppress a shiver.

He now knew a few things. Firstly, Bill Cipher _was_ living in this apartment complex and could be appearing behind Mrs. Cipher any second now. Secondly, the old lady had mistaken Dipper for being the delivery man of some pizza company. _Great_. At least that was why the door had been opened without asking questions.

Dipper opened his mouth to correct her but then he paused. What difference would it make? He needed to talk to Bill Cipher, dammit. His heart felt as if a layer of ice had formed around it, keeping it from beating. He had no time. What if… what if Mabel…

His hands clenched to fists applying a pressure that he couldn’t stop, that he didn’t want to stop until he felt his nails breaking skin. It didn’t hurt. Not really. Not with the numbness spreading through his body like poison. His eyes fluttered open even though he hadn’t noticed that they had been closed in the first place. He cleared his throat and Mrs. Cipher turned her face into his direction.

“Alright,” Dipper murmured averting his eyes and the guilt of using a blind person for his own benefit hindered any more words from forming. Mrs. Cipher turned around gesturing down the hallway. “That’s the way, darling,” she said in that kind of soft voice that only seemed to exist in television.

When Dipper stepped through the door, he felt as if there were weights curled around his ankles pulling him down. Standing in the hallway he noticed the same furniture one would anticipate from an elderly lady like Mrs. Cipher, a maroon floral carpet, wooden and antique looking shelves and cabinets and lots of old looking books and CDs. He also saw a coat rack featuring the very same trench coat Bill had been wearing at their meeting. There was a faint scent of vanilla in the air but he couldn’t make out the origin. The only thing standing out were pictures in different sizes hanging on the wall that looked as if they had been arranged by accident.

Dipper contracted his brows observing them. They were traditionally done, probably with paint, and the first word coming to his mind to describe them was _abstract_. He felt oddly reminded of that one artist he had watched a documentary of once. How had he been called again? Something like Washy Candy? Candsky? Something like that.  

There were lots of geometrical figures in bright colours, lots of triangles, but also something resembling a landscape, a starry sky behind rows of trees. Dipper felt a shiver running down his spine. They left no doubt about who had painted them.

“You like my art, _delivery man_?”, a certain someone said behind his back pronouncing the last words in a way that made _very_ clear that he knew that there was no pizza to be delivered. At least not by Dipper.

Dipper froze clenching his teeth in the process.

“Should I feel honoured or upset that you’re sneaking in our flat a mere hour after we _officially_ met?” The chuckle that followed thawed the ice that held Dipper in place and he whirled around, adrenaline burning through his veins, eyes narrowed.

There he was. Bill Cipher, the human one at least. Looking at Dipper with a flashing grin, the hair back in a neatly combed state and striking a pose that made him look like he thought the whole world belonged to him. He probably actually thought something along these lines. Dipper was glad that Mrs. Cipher had apparently disappeared into one of the rooms because he felt like he might be throwing around insults soon enough.  

“To be honest, I don’t care that you’re here,” Bill continued before Dipper could get a word in. “I _love_ surprises, I really do!” Dipper opened his mouth but every thought he might have put into a sentence crumbled together when Bill _winked_ at him. “But please, buy me a drink first, _Pine Tree_.”

For a few seconds Dipper could only stare at him with wide eyes. He didn’t know what would be worse. Having misheard the words or having _Bill Cipher_ of all people saying what he had just said? Dipper almost gave in to the growing urge to rip these _ugly_ paintings off the wall and shred them to tiny pieces. Then he remembered why he had come here in the first place.

“Shut up,” he growled. “You’re telling me _now_ what you’ve done to my sister.”

“You have a sister?” Bill raised a brow, yellow eyes sparkling in a way that contradicted every flicker of seriousness and Dipper felt something crack inside him.

He rushed forward pushing against Bill’s chest to make him stumble backwards making him lose the grin on his face as if someone had washed it away. Dipper let his fist dart through the air fully intending to break his nose or at least split a lip and Bill only managed to dodge it by stumbling further away until his back lay flat against the wall. For a moment there was a shadow flickering through his eyes, dark and almost… frightened? When Dipper closed the distance between them, there was a strange satisfaction driving him.

“I’m no child anymore,” he whispered knowing that Bill would understand him in this distance that was no real distance. If he tilted his head just a few inches forward, their noses would touch but it didn’t matter at this moment. Dipper locked his gaze with Bill’s to make sure that he was looking at him, that he would listen and the air around them seemed to vibrate. “You stop your fucking jokes and you stop playing dumb or I will make you, Bill Cipher. And now you’re telling me _what the fuck_ you’ve done to Mabel.”

~

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~


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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~

Bill looked at him with unblinking eyes. Dipper saw emotions and thoughts rushing through them in a speed that made it impossible to name them. Then these eyes narrowed twisting his face to a much darker mask. “I’ve done _nothing_ , Dip-per _Pines_ ,” he said in an icy tone that didn’t want to match with the almost playful accentuation of the name. Maybe that was what made Dipper’s stomach turn even more.

A second later the grin reappeared on Bill’s face erasing every trace of insecurity or bad temper. “And about what you’ve said before, I’d like to see you try. Sounds like fun. _Ha!_ ”

He gave a short chuckle before pushing himself off the wall, shoving himself past Dipper and brushing his side in the process. Dipper let him, muscles numb and heavy, thoughts still focused on what Bill had said regarding Mabel. _I’ve done nothing_ , he’d said and it had sounded serious enough. Of course, it could easily be a lie. The Bill Cipher Dipper had known had lied all the time. But it felt too much like the truth to brush it off like an old pair of clothes.

Dipper frowned, thoughts flying through his head like sparks and making it ache. He turned around right when Bill continued talking.

“Still, I’d rather have you _finally_ tell me what this is all about.”

Dipper blinked slowly as their eyes locked. It was easy to read Bill’s expression this time, the lifted brows, the slightly tilted head. Much too easy. _It’s a question_ , Dipper realised and the last traces of anger disappeared leaving nothing but a distant sadness, a distant disappointment. _He really wants to know. He isn’t playing some kind of game. He has no idea who I am. Or maybe he has an idea but he doesn’t remember, not really._

“You don’t know me,” Dipper stated as if saying it out loud would make it more believable. “You don’t remember.”

Bill shook his head making a sound somewhere between a sigh and a hiss. “Unfortunately, I _do_ know you. I _feel_ that I know you. It’s like an _itch_ I can’t stop. I _must_ have known you, once. I just… don’t… know… why.” The way his eyes narrowed, the way he choked out the words made clear that he hated not knowing something and probably even more admitting it.

“Why did you say I should talk to my sister?” Dipper felt his heart fluttering, the words rolling off his tongue clumsily and shaking a little too much. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer but he needed to know. His held his breath while waiting for Bill to process the question. He didn’t know what would be worse. Knowing that Bill had done something to Mabel or not knowing what happened to her at all?

Dipper clenched his teeth as possible scenes unfolded before his inner eye. Maybe he _did_ know what would be worse.

Bill blinked a few times before pursing his lips and averting his gaze, not like someone guarding a dark secret but rather like someone who didn’t know what to say. When he shrugged, a part of Dipper already knew what he would say. Or rather, what he _wouldn’t_ say. “I… well, maybe I wanted to _help_?”

Bill burst into laughter and it was so unexpected that Dipper winced, his stomach twisting. He wanted to snap at him for making a joke out of this situation, a situation that was much too serious, a situation that he was losing his grip on by the minute, a situation that he didn’t want to be in, _dammit_. However, the laughter didn’t sound genuine as if it were just a mirror of the reality. Unable to say something even if he had known what Dipper waited for Bill to calm himself.

“Why does this sentence sound so damn crazy, Pine Tree? Why do I feel the need to call you by the name of a plant? Why does it feel right?” Bill hadn’t stopped laughing but he had got out the words after all. Shiver ran down Dipper’s spine. The laughter felt wrong and intimate in a way that made him frown, that made his skin crawl. Until he realised that it was because the laughter wasn’t like real laughter. It sounded more like sobbing by the minute, even without tears.

If Dipper hadn’t been so worried about his sister, he might have felt pity. As it was he couldn’t utter any reassuring word, even if he wanted to. Because. He. Had. No. _Time_. Because Bill had nothing to do with that horrifying call. Because Mabel had been chased by something horrible in Gravity Falls, something that made _people go missing_ and he couldn’t help her by talking to an amnesic, human Bill Cipher. It was all in vain.

“ _I don’t fucking care!_ ”, Dipper yelled and it didn’t matter that Mrs. Cipher would most certainly hear him. It was hard enough not to give in to the growing urge to punch the wall already. “Something happened to my sister and if you can’t help me, _I’m leaving._ I don’t give a damn about you and your damn new life. I don’t care!”

Dipper wanted to storm by Bill to rush through the door, to _finally_ do something useful. He would have done so, if Bill hadn’t wrapped a hand around his wrist just when he stepped past him.

“YOU’RE NOT LEAVING, PINE TREE!”, Bill shouted in a volume that would have made Dipper freeze even without the content. Trying to regulate his racing heartbeat he exhaled shakily. The ear nearest to the former demon rang like a damn church bell. Maybe that was why he needed a few moments to process what Bill was saying. “At least not until I got my answers.”

Dipper pulled twice at his captured hand but the only result was that Bill’s grip tightened. For being that slender he was surprisingly strong, Dipper had to admit grinding his teeth. However, that didn’t stop him from trying a few more times until the joint of his wrist began aching. Maybe he was getting desperate but Bill seemed to be desperate just the same.   

“Let me go,” Dipper ground out pushing his heels into the floor to somehow get away and out of this damn flat. Why had he thought that talking to Bill would be a good idea in the first place?

That was the moment Mrs. Cipher’s voice echoed through the air. She wasn’t yelling but maybe that was what made Dipper stop trying to free himself even more, his gaze rushing around to find her.

“I might be blind but I’m no fool. I know that something isn’t right here and you two weren’t exactly subtle,” she said, somehow managing to radiate a menacing aura despite the pink hair clips and empty eyes. _Maybe_ because _of the empty eyes_ , Dipper thought with a shiver. However, the dark expression left her face to make way for a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “And now, please let go of Mr. Pines, Billy.”

Dipper fully expected Bill _not_ to let go. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that _Bill Cipher_ would listen to some fragile, old lady, even as a human with a broken memory. When he saw a spark of stubbornness flying through Bill’s gaze, he felt his suspicion confirmed. However, a second later the spark faded and Dipper felt the fingers leaving his skin.

Thoughts twirling in his mind, he began stretching his throbbing wrist, the joint clicking, his eyes wide. How crazy. How absolutely crazy.

“He’s just overreacting, Lizzy,” Bill murmured pursing his lips but he had a different air than a minute ago. Dipper glimpsed at him, at Mrs. Cipher, _Lizzy_ , and back at him again, a weird feeling fluttering in his stomach. This must be a dream, right? This scene just couldn’t be real. He would wake up any minute now, waking up to go to work looking at a dark computer screen like every day, Mabel far away but _safe_. A usual day. A _normal_ day.

“He knows why I have these weird flashbacks but he doesn’t want to tell me. I just want him to tell me,” Bill continued, voice floating between anger and desperation. “He can help me, I feel it… _I’m so close…”_

Taking a deep breath Dipper slowly broke out of his stupor and began inching closer to the door, even though there was a part of him that wanted to stay. A part that was intrigued by this mystery that seemed so much more exciting than the life he was condemned to. A part that _wanted_ to help, even though he shouldn’t. What good would come out of him telling Bill Cipher what happened in Gravity Falls twenty years ago? Lucky as he was it would only drive Bill into old patterns. He really didn’t need to deal with _that_ while his sister was in danger. And didn’t it seem as if Bill were in good hands?

Yes, it would certainly be better not to tell him anything. It would certainly be better to leave as fast as he could and forget everything about this incident.

 _If Bill Cipher can’t help me, I need to go myself_ , Dipper realised clenching his teeth, heart racing in his chest. _I need to go back to Gravity Falls_. Without another glance at Bill or Mrs. Cipher, Dipper covered the last metres to the door and a second later he was rushing down the stairs, the open coat fluttering like wings behind him.

He approached the entrance right when someone else stepped through the door. If he hadn’t noticed him, he would have collided face first with the boy. As he had he managed to push his heels into the Floor and stop himself in the last second.

“Woah, careful, man,” the teenager Dipper had almost run over said, eyes wide, black hair halfway hidden by a red-blue cap. He might have raised his hands to emphasise his words but the pizza box he was holding prevented the movement.

“I’m sorry,” Dipper murmured averting his eyes before stepping to the side to let him walk by. He had to suppress the urge to rub his face hiding the flush that was creeping over his cheeks. Though, he didn’t know if it was out of embarrassment or anger. What had he done to deserve this?

“The money’s on the table,” an all too familiar voice said just when Dipper realised that this must be the delivery service the Cipher’s had called. He felt his muscles tensing, his skin prickling as if he were standing at the starting line of a race. _Dammit_.

He moved to slip through the door but the shadow in the corner of his eye told him that he wasn’t the only one. Resisting the urge to grind his teeth he opened his mouth against better reason. “What. Are. You. Doing?”, he ground out while increasing the speed of his steps and _not at all_ glimpsing at the man at his side. “I won’t tell you anything, give it up.”

Bill Cipher did the same and Dipper saw him grinning out of the corner of his eye. “I’m coming with you. Saving your sister, whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m getting what I want, Pine Tree. You’ll realise I can be quite persistent.”

“Yeah?” Dipper snorted. “Me too.”

~

If he had hoped that the time he had spent in his own flat rummaging through cupboards and wardrobes stuffing everything that might be useful into a bag would make Bill change is mind, he had deceived himself. Even worse, Bill had begun to throw in a comment now and then. At first, he had just repeated his questions from before but after he’d realised that Dipper wasn’t responding, he had gone over to making remarks about the state of the rooms, about Dipper’s clothes or the lack of food. Of course, they’d never been positive ones.

At one point Dipper had told him straight up to leave or he’d call the cops and Bill had laughed. That bastard had actually _laughed_. “I doubt it”, he had said between snorts rubbing tears of laughter out of the corner of his eye. “You wouldn’t want to waste the time you have when you can rather put it into saving your sister.”

Of course, he had been right.

After shooting himself in the foot like that, Dipper had gone back to ignoring Bill as best as he could, even though it didn’t help at all, clenching his teeth as if he wanted to grind them down. When Bill had still been at his side as he had locked the door to his flat, Dipper had sighed resigning himself to his fate.

Though, that hadn’t meant that he would give in. Bill could wait and follow him if he wanted to but Dipper wouldn’t utter even a single word about the past and Bill would surely lose interest soon enough. That was what he had told himself at least.

And that was how he found himself behind the steering wheel of his old car on his way to _Gravity Falls_ , Bill Cipher in the seat next to him.

Dipper tried to focus on the street in front of him, even though his skin prickled and his heart beat just a bit faster than usual. He exhaled slowly praying to whoever might hear him that Bill would tire rather sooner than later from sitting in this car and waiting for answers that wouldn’t come.

They hadn’t even reached the city boundary when Dipper heard Bill shifting in his seat. “You’ve never told me where we’re driving to.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, the grip of his fingers around the steering wheel tightening. He didn’t want to respond, he shouldn’t, but his patience only went so far. “Maybe I didn’t want to.”

“C’mon, Pine Tree!” Out of the corner of his eye Dipper could see Bill turning towards him, his gaze burning holes into Dipper’s side. He had to suppress the urge to shake his head as if it would make Bill stop looking at him. “I’ll get to know anyway, why not telling me now?”

A grin appeared on his face and Dipper’s stomach twisted as if he’d just lost a game he hadn’t known he was playing. “Unless it has to do with these answers you don’t want to give…?”

Dipper frowned, his jaw tensing. _Well played, Bill Cipher_. He sighed.

“ _I’m_ driving to Gravity Falls,” he ground out. “ _You’re_ just stalking me.”

That made Bill shut up, at least for a while. Dipper felt the tension in his limbs dissolving when Bill turned back, his brows contracting slightly as if pondering what Dipper had told him.

“ _Gra-vit-y Falls…_ ,” Bill murmured under his breath, quiet enough that Dipper wouldn’t have understood him if he hadn’t focused on it. His voice had a weird ring to it, more serious than usual, almost soft but tainted by confusion. It sounded almost as if… he were remembering something about this name. _Remembering_. Dipper felt his blood run cold as he thought about what it could mean if he brought Bill back to that town.

For a second he considered slamming the breaks and turning around at the first possible moment. This was way too risky, wasn’t it?

Maybe he wouldn’t have to provide any answers. Maybe being in Gravity Falls would be enough to bring back Bill’s memories. Maybe he’d find a way to get his powers back and then… they would be doomed. Without the journals, without…

Dipper shook his head, his heart racing. _No_ , he told himself. _Don’t think about it_.

He had no choice, had he? Mabel was there and she was in danger and that was his top priority. He had wasted enough time already. He wouldn’t be able to live it down if he turned around now. And who said that Bill would even remember?

He hadn’t until now, right? He only had that vague idea about knowing Dipper and maybe Mabel. They had spent enough time together for his memories to restore themselves if they could be triggered somehow. It hadn’t happened. Maybe he was on the safe side.

 _Hopefully_.

It took them the remaining afternoon and quite a bit of the evening to reach the boundary of Gravity Falls. Bill stayed quiet the entire time, a frown on his face and his gaze clouded, and Dipper was sure that he was trying his hardest to grab whatever distant memory was floating through his mind. He didn’t seem to be successful, though.

Dipper’s heart felt oddly heavy at the thought. He didn’t want Bill to remember but it also didn’t seem to be nice having a second life beyond the consciousness. if Bill was willing to go with an almost complete stranger to an unknown place, he had to be really struggling with it. Or he was just being spontaneous, who knew?

Dipper _hoped_ he was being spontaneous. If not… well, it would make him much too human and Dipper didn’t know what he would make of _that_. He was already much too human for Dipper’s taste. Eyes trained on the _Welcome to Gravity Falls_ sign in front of them, he clenched his teeth. He mustn’t forget what had happened twenty years ago. Bill had been dangerous and he surely could still be. He mustn’t know the truth under any circumstances.

Dipper’s stomach twisted as they passed the sign, almost invisible in the darkness of the night, but there were no fireworks, no electric shocks or incorporeal voices. It should have felt different, _special,_ returning to the town he hadn’t seen again since that fateful autumn ten years ago, the town he hadn’t wanted to see again since then. But it didn’t. It almost felt like driving into any other town.

Dipper sighed, even though there was bile creeping up his throat. This town had given him so much. Just to wrest it away later. But he would make sure Mabel wouldn’t be added to its victims. She had to be alive and he would find her, come what may.

Even with Bill at his side.

Sighing again, this time more annoyed than sad, he tried to focus on his search for Mabel. She had said that she had taken the flight back about a week ago. That meant she had been in Gravity Falls for quite a while and that meant she had a place to sleep somewhere. If she was missing _and that was horribly possible_ , someone had to have noticed and informed the police, right?

So that was where he would look first.

Seeing the familiar streets and buildings Dipper felt like driving through a cloud, through a dream, and there was a numbness spreading through his muscles that didn’t want to go away. However, the environment wasn’t all familiar. The colours seemed off, and then and there he spotted something that shouldn’t be there, that hadn’t been there in the past.

“So, that’s it?”, Bill murmured next to him, sounding weirdly dazed as if he had awoken from a long period of sleep. “Gravity Falls?”

Dipper could only nod.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bill pursing his lips before snorting lightly. “Doesn’t look too special, does it? I expected something more…hm, extraordinary. Grand. Extravagant.”

“I’m not forcing you to stay,” Dipper said, a headache approaching the back of his head. “This isn’t supposed to be a holiday trip. By all means, go home if you don’t want to be here. I certainly don’t want you.”

“ _Ouch_ , that hurt, Pine Tree,” Bill exclaimed throwing a hand over his chest as if he had been wounded fatally. “And I’d _almost_ thought we’d been friends in the past.”

“We’ve _never_ been friends,” Dipper growled, unable to help himself. If he hadn’t driven the car he would have punched himself in the face a second later. Why had he said that? He hadn’t wanted to give any hints and here he was, throwing around knowledge like there was no tomorrow. Why did Bill seem to know exactly what buttons to press?

 _I need to be more careful_ , Dipper told himself biting his lips to hinder any more words from slipping away and noticing the sly grin on Bill’s face. At least, that piece of information shouldn’t come as a surprise after all what happened.

When Dipper parked the car near the town square, he noticed that there weren’t that many other cars around them. He also couldn’t see a person which might be because of the cold and the fact that the time was steadily approaching midnight. Nevertheless, he felt a chill running over his skin, his muscles tensing. For a second the darkness at the corners of the street that the light of the lamps couldn’t reach seemed too dense, almost alive, wavering, pulsing with the beat of his heart.

He swallowed hard before opening the car door. Remembering Bill, he began to speak. “You’re staying here. I’ll be back in… maybe half an hour.”

It was only seconds after he had shut his own door that he heard the click of another one opening. A moment later he was looking at the smug grin of Bill Cipher. _Why am I not surprised at all?_ A part of him wanted to roll his eyes but he couldn’t bring himself to. It had been a long day, every minor inconvenience seemed to take years off his life span, and it didn’t look as if it would change anytime soon. He didn’t have the strength to fight at this moment.

“You haven’t _really_ thought I’d stay behind, have you?”, Bill said as Dipper began to walk towards the familiar greyish building with the brick-coloured letters that formed the word _POLICE_. He gave a small shrug.

“It was worth a try,” he managed to murmur although his lungs seemed to contract even more the closer he got to the entrance, his breath stuck in his throat. Soon he would know what had happened to Mabel. And maybe he would even know what she had been looking for in the first place. 

 _You need to come as soon as possible!_ Her words still rang in his ears like bells that didn’t seem to rest, that jingled perpetually.

However, that horrible silence afterwards rang even louder.

~

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	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone reading/commenting/subscribing/kudo'ing (not sure if that's a real word though) this story! It never fails to make my day seeing that there are people out there enjoying my writing :)

**Chapter 4**

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“Dipper Pines?”, the lanky man asked with slightly narrowed eyes, voice hesitant as if he couldn’t truly believe with he was seeing. His pale skin seemed to have an almost greenish tint under the light of the dimmed lamps. The thick-rimmed glasses almost managed to hide the shadows beneath his eyes. He looked so different from the last time Dipper had been here that he needed a few moments to recognise him.

“Deputy Durland?” Dipper glanced around the room but he seemed to be the only policeman in the office.

“Eh, it’s _Sheriff_ Durland actually,” Durland murmured after blinking a few times slowly. He looked as if he would fall asleep the second his head would hit a pillow and there were deep wrinkles in his face that shouldn’t have been there yet. He didn’t seem to have the best of days. Though, Dipper doubted he looked any better himself.

“Ah, so Sheriff Blubs-“ His voice broke off when he saw the shadow flickering through Durland’s eyes, the tensing of his jaw. Wetting his lips Dipper felt his heart twisting.

“Daryl… he died a few years ago. A heart attack, you know?”, Durland said, a smile on his face that was so forced it looked more like a grimace, and Dipper felt a weight pressing down on his chest. “Have seen it coming all the time but did he listen to me?” He gave a short chuckle that sounded more like a sob before shaking his head slowly. Dipper had to fight the urge to pull him into a hug. He knew what it meant to lose someone dear and it was never easy, no matter how many days passed.

“I’m sorry,” Dipper said, tongue heavy in his mouth. Then there was a surge of energy rushing through him as if he had touched an electrified fence. He took a deep breath trying to coordinate his thoughts. There was something he needed to do.

“Sheriff Durland, I’m here because of Mabel,” he began, voice and expression firm although his heart was racing like that of a hummingbird. “I called her but… something went wrong. She said that she’d be here, in Gravity Falls. Do you know what happened to her by any chance?”

“Mabel?” Durland lifted his brows. “Yeah, she’s here. She’s… eh, give me a second… hm…” He tipped with one finger at the side of his head as if the motion would help him think. A moment later his hand fell down and his eyes focused on Dipper again with the glimmer of a reached memory. “Got it! She’s at the _Milky Way Hotel_ down the road. To be honest I had thought you’d be with her when she arrived a few days ago.”

The words felt like a knife slashing through his insides and Dipper pressed his eyes together until he could breathe again. He could taste the disappointment in himself in the bitterness on his tongue. Swallowing hard he somehow found the strength to open his mouth.

“Thank you… but did… did something happen to her? Did… d-did someone reported her as… m-missing?” The air had to be filled with water or why else couldn’t he breathe? Why else would his heart stop beating, would his gaze become clouded, would his mind become dizzy?

It hurt when he forced himself to inhale, eyes fixed on Durland’s face, on his changing expression that would have the power to raise his spirits or destroy him. With just one word.

“Missing?”, Durland whispered and Dipper felt his insides twist at the sound of his voice. It was like broken glass and seemed to cut his skin just the same. Though, he also felt a frown forming on his face as he watched the brightness disappearing from Durland’s eyes leaving a clouded gaze as if he weren’t looking at Dipper anymore.

“There are people going missing. It’s terrible, really _terrible_ … they’re dead… mutilated… _dead_ … I… I… I don’t _know_ …” His voice quivered in the end, small and high-pitched and quiet. _Frightened_. His widened pupils flickered to the sides, rotating like spinning tops as if he wanted to observe each corner in the room at once. As if he wanted to make sure there was nothing lurking in the shadows.

Dipper felt as if someone had slapped him across the face, his blood running cold. All of a sudden there was the horrible urge to run out of this building and to his car, leaving this town to never return. But he couldn’t do that, could he?

“Sheriff, focus!”, he snapped, heart racing. “What about Mabel?”

“Ah, ah, M-Mabel, yes…,” Durland shook his head until his expression softened even though the tension didn’t seem to leave his body entirely. Dipper gulped, feeling terribly reminded of a mouse hiding in the grass even though the cat had already taken up its trail. “She talked to me… a-about… the cases, Mabel Pines, that nice girl. She’s a fashion designer now, can you believe it?”

Dipper clenched his teeth forcing himself to stay at least somehow polite. Though, he couldn’t suppress the sharpness of his voice completely. “She’s my twin, Durland. Of course, I know she’s a fashion designer.” _But you haven’t called her earlier, have you? What kind of a brother are you, Dipper Pines?,_ a small voice in the back of his mind said and the words burned like poison through his veins.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , he tried to tell himself shaking off these thoughts. _What matters is now_. And now he needed to know what the fuck had happened to his sister.

“Do you know where Mabel is at the moment? Did… did she also go missing?”

Durland blinked once, twice, and Dipper wanted to repeat his questions just as his voice filled the room. “Like I said, she should be at the _Milky Way Hotel_. She should be, even though…hm…” Dipper watched the tip of his tongue flicking over his lips as Durland averted his eyes. “Even if… if she _did_ go missing… well, let’s just say that it’s the corpses that are being found that worry me… _hope_ she won’t be found…”

Dipper exhaled the breath he had held and with the breath there was also most of the strength leaving his body until he could barely keep standing. Durland didn’t seem to be able to talk about the topic anymore, looking more dead than alive, and Dipper didn’t know if he _wanted_ to know more. In the end, he still didn’t know what had happened to Mabel but at least she hadn’t been reported as missing… yet.

He clenched his teeth trying to organise the thoughts that stormed through his head like a hurricane. What did he know? He knew where Mabel had been staying and where she might be staying still, at the _Milky Way Hotel_. The name didn’t sound familiar, so it probably had been opened in the last ten years or so. Well, that was where he would be heading next toapparently.

“Thank you, Sheriff Durland. You really did help me,” Dipper said moving to leave before he froze. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered he hadn’t come alone. _Bill_.

He whirled around, wide eyes flying over dusty tables and chairs until he found what he was searching. In the beginning, he had wondered when Bill would cut into the conversation but he had let himself get carried away by his worry and confusion soon enough. Now he knew why Bill hadn’t tried to interrupt them. It was because he hadn’t focused on them, hadn’t even looked at them for who knew how long.

Dipper could only see his back hidden by the trench coat. Only when he closed the distance between them until he could glance at his face, he realised what Bill was looking at. Though, it only deepened the frown on Dipper’s face, his skin prickling as he followed the gaze to the window. He couldn’t see anything remarkable.

It was dark out there. Really dark. Dark enough to make Dipper wonder how one could identify _any_ shape in this mass of black nature. When he narrowed his eyes in the hope of getting used to the lack of light, he still couldn’t see anything remarkable. There were the same trees that had always been there, maybe a bit taller but, still, normal _trees_. The sky might be a bit more clouded tonight revealing no stars and making the darkness all the more impenetrable but that wasn’t outside the norm, was it?

It didn’t explain the intensity of Bill’s gaze, the widened eyes, motionless beneath unblinking lids. It was almost as if he were trying to stare down somebody, _or something_. It was almost as if he were seeing something else behind the glass, a different world, a different universe. Or maybe just something beyond Dipper’s range of vision, something hiding in the shadows of the trees. Though, whatever he was seeing, it didn’t seem to confuse him any less than Dipper, if the frown on his face was an indicator.

Dipper gulped. Seeing Bill this serious, this quiet, would never fail to send a chill down his spine, to make his flesh crawling. His heart jumped in his chest and for a moment he had the horrible sensation of being watched.

Then Bill shook his head, just lightly and easy to miss in the blink of an eye. However, it dissolved a tension that Dipper hadn’t noticed before.

“What are you staring at?”, he murmured trying to shake off the remaining uneasiness.

Bill turned away from the window in a fluent motion, the grin returning on his lips as he focused on Dipper. “The pine trees, Pine Tree.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, even though there was a part of him that had never been more thankful for a joke. He didn’t know what he would have done if Bill had started to talk about something dangerous inhabiting the woods. Maybe that was why he dismissed the tension of Bill’s jaw, the way his smile didn’t seem natural, the way his right hand curled to a fist for a second.

“Funny, Bill,” Dipper said, even though it sounded rather flat and tired. He resisted the urge to yawn. “Really funny.”

“A friend of yours?,” Sheriff Durland asked in that moment reminding Dipper that they weren’t alone in this room and that he had work to do.

He grimaced when he realised he would have to answer the question. He opened his mouth to deny any closer relationship but then he froze. What if Durland recognised Bill as the triangular demon that had devastated Gravity Falls twenty years ago? Or worse, what if he somehow triggered Bill’s memory?

He couldn’t take any risks. It took more effort to form words by the minute, his body exhausted and heavy, but he somehow managed to open his mouth. “Yeah, he’s a… friend from work.” He forced the corners of his mouth to rise but he wasn’t sure if it could count as a smile. “His name’s Bill, eh, I mean _William_. He just wants to be called Bill, you know?”

Well, now he could only hope that Durland was either too tired or too dim-witted not to see through this paper-thin disguise. Dipper felt the strong urge to hit his head against the nearest wall. He couldn’t have acted more unbelievably, could he?

However, fate seemed to be on his side this time.

Durland only raised his brows, his eyes leaping from Dipper to Bill and back. “Alrighty then. Nice to meet you, Bill,” he said, a smile flickering over his lips. “Well, I hope you’ll find your sister, Dipper. Have fun, you two. Though, I wouldn’t recommend being outside too much… or being in the woods… or in the mines or… hm, any desolate place actually.” He rubbed his eyes yawning slightly. “Just be careful, okay?”

“We’ll keep it in mind,” Dipper hurried to respond already turning to the door. “Goodbye, Sheriff Durland.”

He’d never been more thankful to be able to leave the police station.

~

It was merely seconds after Dipper had shut the door that Bill began to speak.

“A friend from work, huh?” A chuckle echoed through the air. “And here I thought you’ve made it quite clear that _we’ve never been friends_.”

Dipper increased the speed of his steps trying to resist the urge to glance at Bill. _Of course, he couldn’t have let the words go by like that_. Dipper sighed. How long would he have to put up with this? “Be glad I haven’t told Sheriff Durland you’re stalking me. I’m quite sure stalking could get you some quality time in prison.”

“If I had to go to prison, you’d be coming with me,” Bill countered. “ _I_ haven't deceived a poor old lady to get into her flat, eh?”

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Dipper murmured but without energy, voice flat. He took a deep breath as he opened the car door. “I don’t know how much you overheard while staring into the forest but we’re driving to the _Milky Way Hotel_ next. According to Durland, it’s down the street.”

„So, your sis isn’t dead yet?” Bill climbed into the seat next to him although his words made Dipper entertaining the idea of locking him out of the car. The sole thought of the scenario made his heart stutter in his chest, coldness spreading through his flesh.

“Mabel is alive.” Maybe it was because of the freezing tone of his voice but Bill didn’t respond.

The hotel was easy to spot being painted in a light blue that almost seemed to glow in the dark. Someone had drawn sparkling stars in yellow paint at the bottom of the walls, the colour faint and brittle. The grand letters above the entrance forming the words _Milky Way Hotel_ still gleamed as if they were being renewed every day. A beacon in the night.

Dipper didn’t tell Bill to wait in the car this time. Even if had known Bill would have followed his instructions, he wouldn’t have done it. After all, he didn’t know how long he would need to stay and he couldn’t sleep on the street and let Bill rot in the car, could he?

Bill would come with him wherever he would be going as if they were chained together. Against Dipper’s wish, of course, but the result was the same.

Frowning, a part of him wondered how Bill could have decided to accompany him without taking anything along. It must have been clear that Dipper wouldn’t just drive an hour, find his sister in the blink of an eye, and be back for dinner, right?

He sighed while making his way to the entrance. The same part could already feel the heartache approaching that he would inevitably get if Bill asked _him_ for things like clothes. He didn’t even have the money to supply himself! _What a mess…_ He could only hope Bill had at least grabbed his wallet on the way out of the flat.

The wood of the stairs leading to the front porch cracked with each step that either he or Bill took and Dipper wondered how old this hotel really was. Maybe someone had only bought the building and redesigned it without constructing it from the scratch.

He was just reaching out to pull open the door when a rustling of leaves echoed through the air, too loud to be stemming from a burst of wind. His heartbeat accelerated as he froze, fingers hovering just above the handle. His insides twisted, his breath all of a sudden too hasty, too noisy, and there was a feeling surging through him that he couldn’t name, that urged him on as if his life depended on it. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to rush through the door and press it shut as soon as he could.

It almost felt like these old times when he had watched a horror film with Mabel that they had been much too young for.

For the next days he would tremble at any unexpected noise, would observe the environment with narrowed eyes, wouldn’t want to stay alone in a dark room, especially the basement. Oh, _the basement_. Somehow there had always been a reason for his parents to send him down there during those days and he had been convinced there was something hiding in the darkness looking after him when he hurried up the stairs after snatching whatever he had been sent down for.

Something that was just waiting for him to trip.

Without a second thought he pushed the handle down slipping through the gap between wall and door as soon as he could. He almost gave in to the urge to yell at Bill to hurry up but the flickering light of the entrance hall was enough to give him a bit of calmness. The tension left his muscles as he inhaled deeply, glancing at Bill out of the corner of his eye.

Bill didn’t seem to share his feelings as he walked without haste. Hhis eyes were wandering over their surroundings in a bored way and that somehow caused an angry flush to appear in Dipper’s face. Without memories Bill was the younger one, wasn’t he? _He_ should have been frightened, not Dipper who hadn’t been scared by horror films for almost two decades.

Letting out the breath between his teeth, Dipper turned to the reception desk. His eyes widened as he recognised the person standing behind it almost immediately. This time it was him who raised his voice first.

“Candy Chiu?!”

She hadn’t changed, not really. She was still wearing the same round glasses as in the past. Glasses that made her eyes appear smaller than they were, the straight, black hair cascading to her lower back. She was even wearing a striped green shirt that bore a striking resemblance to the clothes she had worn back then even though she had replaced the skirt with a pair of blue jeans.

At the sound of her name her eyes that had been observing Bill and him widened. She clearly hadn’t considered the idea someone would storm in in the middle of the night. It was obvious that she hadn’t recognised him at first but the confusion began to leave her face already.

“Dipper? Is that you?”, she asked, the former accent almost inaudible. A hesitant smile raised the corners of her mouth. “What a surprise! I didn’t expect you to… well…”

Whatever she had wanted to say didn’t seem to be that important because she didn’t bother to finish the sentence.

“You’re running a hotel now?,” Dipper asked before she could finish the sentence after all, in a way he didn’t like.

Candy’s eyes began to shine as if someone had lit a candle behind her pupils. “Ah, yes. I’ve always wanted to become self-employed and when I had enough money…” She shrugged. “I asked myself: Why not Gravity Falls? I’ve made some very fond memories here, you know…” Her voice grew quiet as a shadow fell on her face, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“But it really is a surprise seeing you… at this time as well. Mabel hasn’t said that you would arrive tonight.” Her gaze flickered to Bill in a way that might have appeared accidental if it weren’t for the blush grazing her cheeks shortly after. “And you’re not alone.”

Being struck by the confirmation that his sister really was here, Dipper didn’t respond immediately. He also didn’t have to.

Bill stepped forward reaching out a hand. „The name’s Bill Ci-“

 _Dammit_. Dipper’s muscles moved even before he knew what he should do. He only knew he couldn’t let Bill finish this sentence. He stumbled forward, his heart skipping a beat. A moment later he threw an arm around Bill’s shoulder making him lose the words he was about to say, his hand sinking. The grip of Dipper’s fingers digging into the fabric of the trench coat was too tight, too tense but Candy didn’t seem to notice.

“Y-yeah, he’s a friend from work,” Dipper said forcing himself to grin _again_. “I asked him to accompany me because I… well, I needed help. I’m looking for Mabel.”

For a moment there seemed to be a spark running through Candy’s face, her brows contracting, and Dipper was sure she would call his bluff, that she would shake her head asking for a truth he _mustn’t_ provide. But she didn’t say anything and not wanting to take risks Dipper continued.

“I called her today, around midday, I guess. She said a few things that… confused me, to be honest. She was talking about missing people and when I asked her about it, the call ended. It almost seemed as if she were running away from something…” Dipper frowned as the memories echoed through his mind, his flesh crawling. His breath seemed to be stuck in his throat and it took him a few seconds to return to the present. He pressed the hand at his side to a fist to keep it from shaking, gaze focusing on Candy. “Have you seen her since then?”

 _Please say yes_ , twirled through his mind with every beat of his heart, a steady pang in his chest.

“Mabel?” Candy pursed her lips as she pondered the question. Dipper felt his muscles tensing by the minute but he forced himself not to pressure her.

“Yes. I think it was sometime in the early afternoon that she came back. But I didn’t talk to her… come to think of it, she really did seem to be in a hurry. I was a bit disappointed she didn’t want to see me, disappearing into her room like that, but I figured she needed some time for her _research_.” There was a soft smile on her face when she put the word in air quotes, even though it crumbled a second later. “Y-you don’t think she’s in danger, right, _Dipper_?”

Dipper felt his lips tremble as he searched for words. He didn’t want to unnerve Candy but he also didn’t have the strength to make something up. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and Sleep, forgetting all the trouble. “I don’t know,” he murmured honestly. “I don’t even know why she’s here in the first place.”

He inhaled deeply. “You’ve said she’s got a room here? She’s sleeping at the moment?”

“Yes, she-“ Candy lifted a hand to her mouth as a yawn overtook her. “I’m sorry,” she said shaking her head slightly. “I wanted to close the door an hour ago but there were things that needed to be done and, well… you should count yourself lucky that you’ve been able to sneak in.” She raised one corner of her mouth to a half smile. “Getting back to your question, yes. She should be. I’ve been here all afternoon and I haven’t seen her leaving.”

“Ah,” Dipper breathed, a weight falling off his chest. A smile tugged at his lips as he gave in to the urge to close his eyes. For a moment he almost felt as if he were floating but he didn’t know if it was because of the fatigue drugging his body or because of the waves of relief. “Great.”  

It was only then that he realised he was still clinging to Bill and his eyes fluttered open as if he’d been shot. Fighting the heat in his cheeks he tried to pull his arm away as quickly as he could without being too suspicious. A strange chill ran over the skin that was being exposed to the air again. It had been nice being able to lean onto somebody, even if it was a former evil demon. Though, Dipper wouldn’t ever admit that.

He cleared his throat, mind a lot more focused than just a few hours ago despite the tiredness. “It probably wouldn’t do any good to wake Mabel right now and I don’t want to keep you from sleeping, Candy.” He gave her an apologetic smile, much more genuine this time. “I’m sorry for bothering you so late. I think it would be the best if we’re also getting a room and I talk to my sister in the morning.”

“Ah, alright.” Candy’s gaze dropped to something under the desk. A moment later she held a pair of keys into the light. “Can we do the paperwork tomorrow? I’m _that_ close to falling asleep right now.” She put two of her fingers together, letting them barely hover over each other.

“Of course.” Dipper grabbed the keys. “Thank you.”

“Mabel’s room is _A7_ by the way!”, Candy yelled just when he turned around to where an arrow was pointing to _rooms A to E_ which also seemed to be the only rooms in the hotel.

“Thanks.” Dipper suppressed a yawn himself. It really had been a long, exhausting day although it seemed to get better. Mabel appeared to be safe by all accounts, at least for now, and perhaps he could finally get a bit of sleep.

He had told Candy he didn’t want to wake Mabel but that wasn’t the only reason he had for not meeting his sister right now. After all what had happened, after all what she had hinted at during the call, he just didn’t have the strength to face her right now.

Bill’s steps clacked behind him as he walked towards the rooms, a steady rhythm that almost managed to put him to sleep while standing.

He felt quite optimistic, more than usual at least. Though, there was a part of him that felt itchy, uneasy. As if there was something he forgot to check, a loosened screw that would make the whole machine fall apart.

It couldn’t mean anything, could it? He had been wrong. Mabel wasn’t missing. Candy had seen her after the call, hadn’t talked to her, no, but she had seen her. That should be enough. It wouldn’t do him any good to be that paranoid.

Right?

~

~

~


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

~

~

~

“She can’t be serious,” Dipper growled while glaring at a laughing Bill Cipher. Sadly, it only seemed to urge him on as the laughter grew louder, loud enough to make Dipper fear for fellow hotel guests. Bill even began to lean against the wall for support.

The first suspicions had arisen when he had inspected the keys in search for their rooms. Realising they had the same number imprinted. _A9_. He hadn’t said anything then thinking that there might be multiple rooms in one. However, when he had opened the door to face a damned double bed he couldn’t have stayed quiet.

The back of his head felt as if someone was trying to drive a nail into it, all of his fatigue blown away by this _wonderful surprise_. He actually considered hunting Candy down to possibly yell at her and definitely ask for another room but she had seemed so tired he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Still, there was a part of him that wondered if she had simply made a mistake or if she _really_ believed that he and Bill… _oh my god_.

His skin prickling, he shook his head long enough to make himself dizzy. “There’s no way _I’m_ sharing a bed with _you_ ,” he ground out.

Bill seemed to finally regain some control, the laughter trickling away and transforming into a low chuckle. He gave a long sigh before stepping forward to let himself fall on top of the mattress, hands stretching over the navy-blue blanket.

“Ah, I think it’s quite comfortable, Pine Tree. Pretty, too. Your friend’s got taste,” he said, a grin on the lips that made clear he knew exactly what was bothering Dipper. Dipper contracted his eyebrows, sparks of anger flying through his body. Was Bill really fine with this situation or was he just pretending to be to annoy him?

Either way, it worked.

“Don’t tell me you’ve expected this,” Dipper grumbled still staring at Bill out of narrowed eyes. He had to fight the urge to throw his hands into the air. “I’m almost thirteen years older than you, for goodness' sake!”

That seemed to stump Bill. He froze before lifting his upper body to look at Dipper. As their eyes locked Dipper felt his face heating up while fighting the terrible sensation that he’d said something he shouldn’t have said.

“Ah, really? Interesting…” Bill raised a brow, a sparkle in his eyes that made the yellow shine like the sun. Or maybe rather like a golden poison frog.  “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how old I am, Pine Tree.”

“T-that was just a saying. I have no idea how old you are,” Dipper hurried to respond, even though he knew that the lie had to be written all over his face. He felt more and more comfortable with the idea of sleeping in the hallway. How did he manage to embarrass himself even more?

A second later he clenched his teeth, angry with himself, his muscles tensing. Why did he even let himself get worked up over this? Over _Bill Cipher_? It wasn’t worth it.

“Okay, forget it,” he said with a sigh before slipping out of his coat and throwing it over the nearest chair. Closing his eyes, he breathed in preparing himself mentally. He could only hope that Bill wouldn’t deduce something regarding his past out of the knowledge about their age difference. “I’ll talk to Candy in the morning. Just keep to yourself, alright?”

As Dipper went over to pulling off his jeans he heard Bill humming a song that only made his headache worse. Couldn’t this guy be reasonable for a minute? At this point, Dipper just wanted to sleep.

Grimacing he was about to snap as the sound stopped as if Bill had realised something that overtook all his thoughts. A moment later, his voice echoed through the room. “Hey, do you have a toothbrush, Pine Tree?”

Dipper threw the jeans on top of the coat with a lot more energy than necessary. “I do have a toothbrush. _My_ toothbrush,” he growled. When he turned around again he looked into Bill’s eyes and his stomach began to flutter in a weird way. Had Bill actually watched him all the time or was he just looking at him now by accident? Dipper swallowed hard, struck by a feeling that he would rather not explore.

“Ah, but you don’t mind sharing, do you?”

 _I knew it_. Dipper moved his lips to snarl something not exactly nice but then he paused. He couldn’t change this situation, could he? At least not in the next seven or so hours. He was fucking tired and he didn’t _want_ to fight, did he? Maybe it would make Bill respect him more if they weren’t clashing every time either of them opened the mouth. _Maybe it would keep his mind from his past life_.

Dipper reached inside his bag and a moment later there was a toothbrush and toothpaste flying into the direction of the bed. There was a yelp that had to come from Bill trying to catch the supplies. If there was a part of Dipper that had hoped he would fail, then that part would be disappointed. As Dipper turned around after closing the bag again he only got a glimpse of Bill’s back as it disappeared into the bordering bathroom.

“You can keep them!”, Dipper yelled after him shaking his head slightly. Bill probably wouldn’t have given them back anyway. Not that he wanted a toothbrush used by Bill. _No, thanks_.

A few moments later he was lying beneath the blanket, his arm grazing the bedside table in an attempt to lie as far away from the centre of the mattress as he could. Still, he could detect the spots where Bill had been lying, the fabric warm and dented. The only light source was the bedside lamp at Bill’s side or what Dipper had decided was Bill’s side. If he turned away from it, then perhaps he would be able to fall asleep.

Dipper closed his eyes sighing, the tension of his muscles dissolving like snow in the sun, the sound of Bill brushing his teeth a steady rhythm beyond his consciousness. Maybe he would even fall asleep before that damned ex-demon returned?

The thought made a grin appear in his face before his exhaustion took it away. If someone had told him a year, or even a day before that he would end up in Gravity Falls sharing a bed with a human Bill Cipher, he would have called that person crazy. It still didn’t feel like reality.

There were still too many open questions. _Mabel_ … what was she up to?

What was happening in Gravity Falls? Why were there people going missing?

Dipper felt his head spinning and he just didn’t have the strength to ponder these questions at the moment. He needed to sleep. And tomorrow… tomorrow he would learn the truth. Without making Bill discover something about the past, of course.

That was when he heard a door falling shut, footsteps approaching.

“You don’t sleep already, do you?” Dipper might have rolled his eyes, maybe given some growling remark but he stayed motionless out of spite.

A second later his whole body flew a few inches into the air as Bill threw himself onto the mattress, the cushions groaning. Dipper’s eyes shot open as his shoulder met the corner of the bedside table, flames sparking from the spot where his skin had collided with solid wood. “ _Dammit_ ,” he gasped grimacing. His eyes narrowed as they rushed to meet the cause of his pain. “What the _fuck_ were you thinking, you-?!”

Dipper lost the words on his tongue as he found himself facing a half-naked Bill Cipher. For a horrible second he had actually thought Bill _was_ naked until he caught a glimpse of white boxers. _Thank God_. Dipper couldn’t have stared at him for more than a few agonising seconds until he managed to avert his eyes pressing them shut as he tried to shake the picture off his mind. Seconds that had made the temperature in this room rise by a hundred degrees. Seconds that had transformed the air into some kind of invisible fog, heavy and dense, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Dipper tried his best not to allow the flush to creep into his face but he knew at the same time he would fail. It hadn’t been long but the time had somehow been enough for the memory to burn itself into his mind. It had been enough for him to realise that Bill must be doing some kind of workout. Regularly. Much too regularly.

It almost made Dipper feel bad about his own lacklustre attitude towards sport. It _did_ make Dipper feel bad about his own body. At least until he reminded himself that it was the former evil demon Bill Cipher lying next to him and he did _not_ want to trade lives.

He did _not_ want to look at him.

Dipper let out the breath between his teeth lifting a hand to massage the bridge of his nose. “Couldn’t you keep a shirt on at least?” He hated how faint his voice sounded.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Pine Tree?”, Bill purred. It might have sounded somewhat attractive to another person if he hadn’t accentuated the words in such a ridiculous way Dipper couldn’t help but feel like the butt of a joke. He probably was.

“Shut up,” Dipper snapped scrapping the idea of playing nice. With this guy, it wouldn’t work in a thousand years. He gave his throbbing shoulder a soft squeeze grimacing at the pain. There was no way he wouldn’t get a bruise out of this. He let the hand fall back against the mattress turning his back on Bill without a second glance.

The dancing light in front of his eyelids vanished as Bill switched off the remaining lamp. Dipper hadn’t noticed his heartbeat speeding up but in this silence he could hear it rushing through his ears loudly and clearly. His stomach fluttered as if he had exited a rollercoaster but he squeezed his eyes shut a bit more and focused on his breathing until the most pressing thoughts faded.

He almost believed Bill had given up talking to him, at least for this night. But then his voice echoed through the air after all, albeit neither loud nor teasing.

“Are you really that much older, Pine Tree?”, Bill asked. This time he almost sounded serious.

Dipper frowned, unsure of what to respond. Maybe he shouldn’t respond at all? Bill was trying to gain anything through this question, wasn’t he? It couldn’t be just a simple question, right?

However, it didn’t feel like some kind of ploy even though Dipper couldn’t say why. In the end, he did respond.

“Well, I-I’m… 33…,” he murmured, half-asleep already. Bill could do whatever he wanted with this answer. And he seemed to be satisfied by it as Dipper didn’t get another question.

He didn’t know when exactly he had left the realm of the consciousness but he must have done so soon after that last exchange.

~

When Dipper woke up, it was because the sun was shining into his face, warming the skin and making reddish dots dance before his eyelids. There was a tension already gripping his body that he couldn’t understand, that made him frown even before he fully reached reality.

That was also when a hand landed on his chin supported by an energy that made it border on a slap. Dipper winced, eyes fluttering open, wide awake now. Memories were rushing through his mind while he pushed the hand, now lying on his chest, away, his heart racing at a pace that should have been forbidden this early in the morning.

Blinking hastily, he wanted to jump out of bed as fast as he could just when a voice made him freeze, one sock wearing foot already grazing the floor.

“ _You can't… stop me_!”, Bill growled in a way that sounded so inhuman Dipper felt ice filling his veins. His head turned almost automatically, mind empty as if someone had sucked every thought out of his brain. He almost expected to see the familiar triangular shape but his gaze fell on the same human face and human Body he had seen the day before. Bill didn’t even seem to be awake, eyelids shut, even though there was a crease between his brows, a twist in the line of his mouth indicating he wasn’t sleeping soundly. Dipper could only watch as his lips opened again, oddly sharp teeth sparkling in the sun rays.

“ _I'm a being of pure energy with…”_ Bill squirmed before turning to the side, his face darkening even more as if he were facing something terrible he couldn’t escape. The pillow muffled his voice but Dipper knew what Bill would add. He had already heard it after all. “ _No weakness_.”

If he had needed yet another prove that this was indeed Bill Cipher, the former dream demon, this would have been it.

Dipper’s eyes burned from being opened too long without blinking but he couldn’t bring himself to avert his gaze, limbs numb. A shiver ran down his back, intense enough to make him flinch. For a second he was back in the body of a twelve-year-old, cap on his head, journal in his hand, confronting something much bigger than everything he had known before.

Then he finally managed to blink shaking off the past clinging to him with claws of iron.

He didn’t want to hear more.

With trembling fingers, he grabbed Bill’s naked shoulder shaking it until the tension disappeared from his face. Though, Dipper made sure to pull his hand away as soon as he saw the eyelids opening, moving to _finally_ get out of bed.

His insides twisted slightly as he remembered they had actually spent the night in this bed, _together_. Tired and exhausted in the middle of the night he hadn’t seen much of a choice but now he wondered how he could have been that dumb. Especially as Bill seemed to remember a thing or two about the past and that was definitely a thing or two too much. What if Bill’s memories had returned while Dipper was sleeping soundly and vulnerable next to him? He could have ended up _dead_!

Dipper swallowed hard trying to calm the panic spreading through his veins, flesh crawling as if a thousand ants were swarming over his body. He shouldn’t have brought Bill with him. He should have pulled him out of the car himself before leaving, dammit!

“You’re looking like you’ve seen a ghost, Pine Tree,” Bill said forcing him out of his storm of thoughts and for once Dipper was happy about it. _Nothing has happened_ , he told himself inhaling deeply. _No reason to worry. Everything’s fine._

“I’m fine,” Dipper ground out even though he wasn’t. As he couldn’t let Bill know he turned around to snatch new clothes out of his bag. He grimaced while going through same-looking old shirts and jeans wondering when he had last bought something new. He couldn’t remember and that was even more ironic when thinking of his sister Mabel, the fashion designer.

 _Mabel_. He paused, eyes wide, fingers clenching around the dark green shirt he was holding. He needed to see her before she could leave her room and this hotel walking into whatever had been hunting her the day before. He needed to talk to her as soon as possible.

“I know it’s me,” Bill said and Dipper needed a few seconds to realise what he was alluding to. “The reason you’re… _disturbed_. I’ve had these dreams for as long as I can remember and you wouldn’t be the first one trying to hide your discomfort…”

Dipper rose to look at Bill, clothes in his hands, trying to keep all emotions from being visible in his face. Bill was lying on his stomach on top of the blanket, one hand propping up his head. His eyes narrowed slightly as their gazes met. “I just wonder if it’s the same reason with you… or if there’s… more to it.” He grinned widely but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Care to enlighten me, Pine Tree?”

Dipper licked his lips before turning to go to the bathroom with deliberately slow steps. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bill,” he retorted, shrugging.

Even after he had closed the door he could still feel Bill’s eyes burning holes inside his back.

~

Torn between not wanting to see Bill and wanting to see Mabel as soon as possible, Dipper dressed hurriedly just to wait a few more minutes in the enclosed space of the bathroom. It was tempting to stay a bit longer and not to face his problems but he knew that he could only run away from them for so long.

Sighing he opened the door, his movements a bit more hesitant than usual.

In the end, he shouldn’t have needed to worry.

Dipper only caught a glimpse of Bill already wearing black trousers and a white button-down. That was because Bill didn’t even look at him as he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on, disappearing through the open door with a rolling of his eyes. “I almost thought you’ve died in there,” he sneered before pulling the door shut.

Frowning Dipper found himself staring after him for too many seconds until he realised how dumb he must look, face heating up. He shook his head lightly as images of last night appeared before his inner eye, Bill shirtless, that damn grin, and why the hell was that bastard occupying that much space in his mind?

He would _definitely_ talk to Candy, right after talking to Mabel. There was no way he would share this room with Bill for even one more night. He needed to clear his thoughts and he didn’t want to worry about being the target of vengeance any minute.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he realised it was quite convenient Bill was using the bathroom right now. He wouldn’t need to explain anything to Mabel if there was nothing she needed an explanation for. Or no one.

Without a second thought he left the room, pulling the door close as silently as he could.

 _A7_ , Candy had said. Their own room had been the last on the left and taking the numeration into consideration there really was only one solution. Dipper’s gaze wandered to the door opposite to their own and sure enough, there it was _. A7_.

He felt his heartbeat speeding up as he stepped forward. Mabel’s face drifted through his mind although it was oddly blurry like a low-quality photograph. It only made the pang inside his chest worse as he remembered how long it had been since their last meeting.

Before he could change his mind after all, he clenched his teeth and began banging against the door of _A7_ with more strength than necessary.

Nothing happened. There was no voice telling him to enter, no sound of approaching footsteps. For a few moments Dipper wondered if it was just because of his pulse pounding in his ear that drowned out any other noise. However, the door stayed shut as the seconds trickled by.

Dipper took a deep breath as his heart squirmed inside his chest, beating almost painfully. There was a dark thought creeping through the back of his mind, inching closer the longer he waited, and he didn’t want to acknowledge it. When his fist met the wood of the door a second time he wasn’t hesitant anymore.

“ _Mabel?_!”, he said, albeit bordering on a scream. He forced himself to lower his voice before continuing. “Mabel, it’s me, Dipper. I’m sorry if I’ve woken you… can we talk?”

It was only seconds after the last words left his mouth that his gaze fell to the floor by accident and a frown spread over his face. A metallic sparkle caught his eye. It didn’t take him long to recognise the item as a room key. A suspicion already began to twist his thoughts at that moment but it wasn’t until he reached down to pick it up that this suspicion was confirmed.

The engrained A7 showed unmistakably that it was a key to Mabel’s room, probably even her own. Dipper’s gaze rushed to the spot where he had found it and back to the key, his eyes widening, the sickness in his stomach spreading.

It had been close to the door, too close, almost as if Mabel hat pushed it through from the other side. Or as if she had dropped it and thus made it slide through the gap between door and floor. Dipper’s grip around the key tightened in a way that should have hurt, the metal pressing into his skin, but it didn’t matter. _She hasn’t retrieved it_ , he realised. _She hasn’t retrieved it although she must have noticed._

That could only mean she hadn’t been able to.

He pushed the key into the hole without a second thought, a claw clenching his heart, his lungs, and he couldn’t breathe. Dammit. _Dammit_.

When he threw the door open he didn’t bother to take back the key. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was his sister and he needed to find her, needed to see her, needed to talk to her. She had to be in this room. _She had to be_.

Dipper stumbled forward feeling as if he was walking on clouds, the floor porous and uneven even though it had been solid a minute ago.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold noticing the flickering light in the centre of the room, he knew his sister wouldn’t be here. It was too cold, too quiet, almost disturbingly so. Almost as if someone had forgotten to check the heating leaving it broken.

At first glance it appeared to be a normal hotel room and Dipper recognised it immediately as the room his sister had to be occupying. The small bed at the side hadn’t been made, the blanket creased and one corner grazing the floor, a few of her favourite sweaters spread upon it as if she hadn’t been able to decide which one to wear. There was a suitcase at the other side of the room that didn’t want to fit into this hotel, polished and expensive looking. There were also some fashion magazines piled upon the bedside table although it didn’t seem as if Mabel had already read them.

It didn’t seem as if something atrocious had happened in this room apart from the growing uneasiness twisting his stomach that was telling him otherwise. Until his gaze fell to the floor.  

White pearls were scattered across the Floor. Some were still clinging to the string that had once held the necklace together but most of them had rolled away. One was even lying next to his foot, seemingly unnoticed and forgotten. And then he felt wind blowing against his face, making the fine hair in his neck stand up, wind that shouldn’t be in this enclosed space, wind that belonged outside.

His gaze darted up and it didn’t take him long to find the window, curtains fluttering in the breeze. He leaped over the pearls, heart racing as if he were running a marathon. He felt as if something were squeezing his chest tighter and tighter, and soon there would be nothing left of him anymore.

Dipper didn’t know what he was looking for when he stared out of the window and into the sunlit trees and bushes of the forest but whatever it was, he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find _her_. His sister, his twin, Mabel… she was gone.

Someone… or something had taken her from this room after having already chased her during the call. Dipper was sure of it. There was no other explanation.

But it was an oh so terrible explanation.

His eyelids fell shut in the same moment as the invisible threads holding his body were cut making him fall to his knees. He couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe? Why had the oxygen in the air been transformed into acid burning his throat with every raspy gasp? Why did his chest didn’t seem to stop hurting?

Why, oh why hadn’t he helped Mabel?

Why had he thought she’d be safe?

Why was he so damn useless? Losing at life at any chance he got?

Whatever had happened to Mabel, it wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair.

 _I should have been the one in her place_ , he thought but it couldn’t numb the ache of his mind, of his body, the pang in his chest at every heartbeat.

Nothing could.

~

~

~


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

~

~

~

Dipper didn’t know how long he was kneeling in front of the window, hands lying lifelessly on the floor as if they didn’t belong to his body. His eyes burned in a way that couldn’t be fixed by blinking but he wasn’t able to cry either. Everything seemed so utterly pointless that he didn’t even have the strength to lift one finger, his mind unwilling to think.

He breathed in, breathed out, eyelids pressed together, trying to gather his senses even though he wasn’t sure if it could be possible.

He hadn’t heard Bill entering the room but the spoken words were loud and clear. “Pine…Tree?”

Dipper didn’t care. Not really.

Though, he felt a second later that it wasn’t true. With the voice, even quiet, incredulous as it had sounded, came reality with a grip of iron, dragging him out of the sweet pretence of thoughtlessness he was floating in. He felt as if he were captured by the sea, tossed around by waves, and when he reached to rest on the rocks, he was being thrown right back in.

He didn’t want to confront what had happened. And he certainly didn’t want to face Bill Cipher.

However, Bill hadn’t taken notice obviously.

Footsteps echoed over the rushing of the wind, _approaching footsteps_ , a steady tapping in his ears until it stopped. Right next to him.

Dipper didn’t know why but he held his breath, a tension creeping through his body slowly waking muscles and flesh even though he still wasn’t willing to move or even open an eye. Something flickered through him, boiling anger that was able to drown out the numbing sadness for a moment.

 _Go away_ , he wanted to yell. _Let me be. You’re just a burden. You shouldn’t be here, dammit._

He didn’t.

What he did say was something entirely different. His voice was low, faint, his tongue heavy enough to make him wonder how he had managed to get out the words.

“She’s gone.”

Bill snorted and if that noise wasn’t annoying enough already, his words were. “I’m not blind either, Pine Tree. No need for stating the obvious.”

Dippers eyes fluttered open as he clenched his teeth as if wanting to break the jaw. “You really _are_ a fucking bastard, Bill Cipher,” he growled, hands pressed into fists, fighting the urge to punch Bill into the stomach or kick away his legs to make him kiss the floor. Both possibilities seemed highly attractive right now.

Bill chuckled and the sound made Dipper’s head ache. “Sure I am, what's your point?"

Dipper was standing in less than a second even though he couldn’t remember moving his muscles to rise. He couldn’t remember making any decision really. There was a red veil before his inner eye, before his mind, clouding any thoughts, making it impossible to even think about a decision. He must have made a noise, a stifled scream maybe, because Bill’s eyes widened even before Dipper threw himself against him.

This time Bill didn’t manage to dodge, the grin vanishing from his face in the same second as Dipper’s fingers clenched around the fabric of his shirt, pushing, driving, and then they were falling.

It took them too long to reach the ground, long enough to let Dipper see Bill’s eyes narrowing, long enough to make him notice the rapidity of his own heartbeat. And wasn’t there another one, distant but racing all the same?

It didn’t hurt when his knees collided with the floor even though it should have. Later he would notice the stabbing ache in his joints blazing up every now and then while walking. But not now. Now it seemed as if Bill was the only one experiencing pain, having not only just a thin carpet to cushion the fall but also Dipper’s additional weight to worry about.

Bill’s eyelids fell shut as the back of his head met the ground with an ugly crack, his face twisting into a grimace. He began to blink hastily, trying to regain some control. A low groan escaped his lips although he didn’t manage to open his eyes entirely, his brows contracting. Out of the corner of his eye Dipper could see his hands twitching as if he were trying to move them without having the strength to do so.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, hot and heavy, and something else, maybe. His stomach fluttered as Dipper lifted one fist over his head grabbing Bill’s chin with the other one, ready to deliver a punch that had been a long time in coming.

He let his hand speed forward right when Bill’s eyes opened wide, the white almost entirely visible, and something rushed through this gaze that Dipper couldn’t recognise. Especially as Bill wasn’t looking at him.

“ _Tom_ ,” Bill whispered, voice flat, low, but firm, a shadow flickering through his face. A shadow of _realisation_. Though, it disappeared as soon as it had arrived.

Maybe that was what made Dipper stop, his hand hovering just an inch over Bill’s nose, muscles trembling with suppressed tension. Maybe he couldn’t have done it after all.

Dipper exhaled shakily as Bill’s gaze focused on him, then on the fist that had almost crashed his nose and back on him again. There wasn’t a trace of a grin on his lips and ironically enough that was what made a short smile appear on Dipper’s face even though it didn’t reach his eyes. Neither of them moved, Bill staring wordlessly at him as if waiting for something to happen.

Dipper sighed and with that sigh came a wave of exhaustion washing over him, taking every tension with it. His hands fell back to his sides as he began to get off of Bill, movements heavy and sluggish, the air too dense, too hot.

Trying to regulate his heartbeat, he leaned his back against the wall, unwilling to rise completely.

Bill exhaled, the sound loud in the air, his eyelids closing for a moment too long, his breathing a tad too irregular, too shaky. He didn’t rise either, didn’t move at all actually.

“ _Wha_ -What… did you… say?”, Dipper murmured. Though, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to understand any words next to his pulse vibrating through his ears. His gaze roamed over Bill whose body was unmoving except for the rising chest and oddly enough, it focused on the loose strand of blond hair grazing his forehead of all things.

Bill gave a small laugh. It sounded faint and fractured as if he didn’t have enough breath left to laugh properly. It was only when he lifted his right hand, the movement slow as if being hindered by the air, that Dipper noticed his fingers were clenched around something. He narrowed his eyes while eying whatever Bill was holding between his thumb and index finger. It was black and thin, almost too small to make out the shape.

It was hair.

Dipper knitted his brows but he didn’t come to voice his confusion.

“That’s been lying on the floor,” Bill said. “Your sister isn’t black-haired, is she?”

Dipper felt something squeeze his chest at the mention of Mabel but he tried to shake off the feeling, his heart heavy between his ribs. Pushing himself off the wall took more effort than it should have. When he leaned forward to snatch the hair from Bill’s hand, his skin felt warm against his own.

At first he had thought that it might be Candy’s and it would have fit. They were friends after all, so it would make sense for them to meet in Mabel’s room, wouldn’t it? However, it only took him a few seconds to realise that it wasn’t Candy’s, that it couldn’t be Candy’s.

That it wasn’t human at all.

It was bristly, matted and thick in a way that no human hair could be. If Dipper hadn’t known better he would have thought that it might be hair from a domestic animal, a hairy wild dog maybe, or a sheep.

Dipper swallowed hard as his gaze flickered over almost pitch-black ends. The longer he held the hair the weirder it felt in his hand. It was too cold, didn’t seem to pick up the temperature of the room or his skin as if it didn’t belong to this environment.

It felt wrong to look at it. It felt wrong to hold it. Dipper couldn’t help but feel reminded of an invisible poison spreading through his body to kill him when he expected it last.

Clenching his teeth, he let go of it making it float to the ground in an almost graceful way. A shiver ran down his spin, the fingers that had been holding that strange hair oddly prickling. “What’s this?”, he asked. “You… you said a name, didn’t you? You’ve said-“

“Tom,” Bill threw in, his pupils rushing to the side to glance at Dipper. “Yeah, I know. Tom Gana, that’s the name.”

“You mean… you know who’s been here? Whose hair this is? Who’s… done anything to Mabel?” His mind felt like a raging storm as Dipper tried to detangle the knot of questions that only seemed to get more numerous. Bill couldn’t know a thing about what had happened, could he? Not with his broken memory, not when even Dipper didn’t have a clue about the missing people, about the disappearance of his _own sister_ , dammit.

“Ah, _that’_ s not what I’m not saying, Pine Tree.” Bill exhaled before lifting his upper body, one hand combing back his hair and the loose strand, placing the other on the floor to stabilise him. He pursed his lips absentmindedly.

“Though, come to think of it, it might as well be true.” The frown on his face dissolved as he shrugged. “Okay, yeah, he’s done this… _certainly_ …” Something flickered through his gaze. “Or has he?”

Dipper didn’t feel as if any of those answers were helping him. They only made his mind spin all the more, the back of his head aching slightly. Bill didn’t even seem to be sure himself. As if there were a part of him that knew the truth but the way from his consciousness to that part was blocked and nebulous.

And that could only mean one thing.  

The answers to Dipper’s questions lay in Bill’s past. In Bill’s _demonic_ past. A past he didn’t want to recover. Ever. Dipper felt a coldness rushing through his body that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room or the open window. When he opened his mouth, his stomach twisted.

“Why did you think of him at all? I mean, who even is that guy?”

 _Tom Gana_. Dipper hadn’t heard that name before and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know more about him if _Bill Cipher_ had known him. He didn’t want his sister to be stuck with an old companion of Triangle Bill. If that hair did belong to a being under that name, it couldn’t be human. He felt the colour fade from his cheeks, his heart skipping a beat. _God, no_.

“Hm…” Bill tilted his head. “I’m… not sure. The name just came to me, you know? When I saw that hair… hell, you probably know more about it than me, don’t you, Pine Tree? You’re always trying to hide that you know something about me…” He chuckled lightly, flashing a grin. His eyes sparkled in a way that made Dipper’s muscles tense as they locked with his own. “Don’t try to deny it.”

“I’ve never heard that name before,” Dipper murmured, the frown on his face as if set in stone. “I have no idea what happened to… Mabel…”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Bill grinned and Dipper was sure that he didn’t want to know what had triggered that grin. A second later he got to know anyway. “You do your best to avoid talking to me and now we’re here and _you_ need _me_.”

“I don’t need you,” Dipper snapped against reason. “As far as I know, you’ve made something up to stop me from punching you.”

“I didn’t.” Bill rolled his eyes. “But if it makes you feel better about not helping your sister… do what you want, I guess.”

Dipper clenched his teeth so hard it was a miracle he didn’t broke a tooth or two. _You damn bastard_ , shot through his mind but the thought wasn’t able to make him feel better at all. It probably wouldn’t even have spoken out loud. How could he get out of this situation without dooming either Mabel or Gravity Falls? He couldn’t tell Bill the truth, could he?

But it also seemed as if Bill was the only one being able to help him. If he was right, if it really was this Tom Gana that made people go missing in Gravity Falls, if he had taken Mabel with him, Dipper needed to follow this clue. He couldn’t ignore it, not with the life of his sister at stake.

However, Bill didn’t seem to know anything apart from the name and the vague feeling that it was him who was responsible for this chaos. Surely Bill would gain every information about him if he got back his memories and it would be easy to catch Tom with Mabel alive, wouldn’t it?

Dipper grimaced. It sounded easy but the reality was different, painfully different. Everything could go wrong. There was no safety, no confidence, just a big hole of risks that would devour him alive if he dared step near it. He was sure of it.

He couldn’t make this damn decision. He didn’t want to.

His eyes began to burn but Dipper only noticed the tears forming in them as his vision blurred, Bill’s body a mess of black, yellow and white. For a moment all of his limbs hurt, invisible claws clenching around his heart as if threatening to rip it out of his chest. For a moment he felt more alone than he had ever felt before. After the events ten years ago, he had still had Mabel. But now? What was left for him?

 _Why can’t you be here, Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?_ Hot and cold waves of anger and sadness were rushing through his body, burning through his veins like poison and he almost let himself get carried away by them. His heart skipped a beat just to speed up. For a moment he felt like throwing up, bile creeping up his throat. _I need you…_

A second later Dipper shook his head, hastily blinking away the tears that threatened to roll over his cheeks, hoping Bill hadn’t noticed his damn near breakdown. His hands clenched to trembling fists. He couldn’t change the past. He needed to concentrate on the present. He needed to decide.

When he focused on the former demon again, their gazes meeting, there was a strange look on Bill’s face. His eyes were narrowed slightly but without anger or annoyance and his lips were quivering softly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

In the end, it was Dipper who opened his mouth first.

“You..,” he murmured. The words tasted like rotten fruit on his tongue and he needed to fight the urge to choke. “The dreams, flashbacks, I don’t know what else… It’s because you… you’re remembering your past life…”

There was a bright spark flickering through Bill’s eyes at the words as if someone had switched on a light behind his iris just to switch it off again. “Hm. I’ve thought about the possibility before… makes sense, I guess. Much better than what some of the doctors tried to convince me of.” He snorted lightly before grinning at Dipper. “So, I gather we’ve met in my _past life_ , Pine Tree?”

“Don’t try to pretend it wasn’t obvious already.” Dipper glared at him although his voice was still shaky and breathless.

Bill laughed a bit too loud making Dipper flinch. “You’re right. It _is_ painfully obvious,” he sneered before lifting a brow. “So, what made you hate me? I broke your heart or something?”

“ _Y-you_ …?!” Dipper froze and the disbelief had to be written all over his face, eyes wide. He shook his head as soon as he regained the control over his muscles. Briefly he entertained the idea to scream out the truth, just so that Bill wouldn’t get any more of These crazy ideas.

“I was a child, you damn pedo!,” he all but shouted. “ _Forget it_!”

Bill only began to laugh again, a lot longer this time, curling his upper body in the process and Dipper felt a vein twitch at his forehead. “Your _expression_ …,” Bill chuckled rubbing his eyes. “Priceless, Pine Tree!”

Dipper rose in a fluent motion, almost ready to leave the room without a second glance or another word. Of course, he didn’t do it.

The motion did make the laughter fade as Bill moved to follow him, a hand brushing off the dust from his button-down shirt.

“Can you tell me more about this Tom Gana?”, Dipper asked even though he didn’t have much hope. Though, it might at least hinder Bill from asking more and especially _more_ _dangerous_ questions. He glanced around the room, this time looking for something else than his sister. Mabel came back because she wanted to investigate, didn’t she? Maybe if he knew more about what she was searching for, it would lead him to wherever she was being kept. _Alive_.

“He’s dangerous,” Bill said, his voice without a trace of playfulness which made the chill running down Dipper’s spine all the worse. That didn’t sound good at all. 

Dipper froze before gulping down his uneasiness. It didn’t matter how dangerous that guy was. He would find his sister, come what may. He had faced enough bad guys in the past and had come out on top, hadn’t he?

 _Though, never alone_ , a voice whispered inside him. He quickly shut it off. Didn’t matter. He would save Mabel. He would work something out to save her. It would work. It _needed_ to work.

As his gaze fell on the suitcase once again, he paused. Not because he saw something that stood out but rather because he _didn’t_ see something that should be there. There was no backpack or bag even though Mabel couldn’t have arrived without one to store her phone, wallet and whatever else she needed to bring with her. Especially as she had got into the habit of keeping a small sketchbook close to her body to draw out new design ideas soon after getting into the fashion business.

It should have been lying around here but it wasn’t and the room felt oddly empty without it.

 _She was probably holding it when getting taken_ , Dipper realised, the corners of his mouth sinking slightly.

That was when he noticed something that _did_ stand out.

It wasn’t that Mabel didn’t read at all. Even though she didn’t read half as much as Dipper, she did like reading. However, her books usually consisted of the ones with cheesy romances and snarky heroines and the occasional autobiography of ‘ _spiritual’_ people who had gained ‘ _a new sense of life_ ’ through their endless voyages through exotic countries that no normal person could afford.

She certainly wouldn’t read something like that antique-looking leather-bound book lying halfway hidden underneath the bed.

Dipper crossed the room with quick steps before picking up the book in a fluent motion.  The title was written in old letters, grand and ornate with tiny figures in the background that seemed to disappear in the dark colour of the leather, and Dipper needed a few seconds to identify the words. When he did, his eyes widened.

 _“The Craft of Summoning a Demon?”_ He winced as the voice tingled his ear. “Your sis sure isn’t someone you’d want as an enemy, huh?”

If Dipper hadn’t been too stunned by that remark he probably would have barked something not very appropriate. 

He whirled around pressing the book to his chest with one hand as if it were a newfound treasure. The other hand hurried to push against Bill’s shoulder forcing him to stumble backwards and _thankfully_ leaving Dipper’s bubble of personal space that bastard had already overstepped far too much to his taste.

“Don’t you dare sneak up on me like that again, you jerk!” Dipper’s heart beat faster than it should.

Bill lifted his hands in a gesture of fake innocence, the grin on his face making this act of remorse all the more unbelievable. “I just want to help, Pine Tree! Why so suspicious? You want my help, don’t you?”

“I’d much rather you help me without breathing down my neck, _thank you very much_.”

Dipper shook his head, his skin still prickling slightly. A part of him wanted to open the book trying to find any hints regarding the whereabouts of Mabel but glancing at Bill made him reconsider. Why did Mabel need to have _this_ kind of book lying around of all things? Why couldn’t it have been some guide or notebook or anything that wasn’t about goddamn _demons_?

Dipper threw a last look around the room but it didn’t seem as if there was anything else that could help him. Inhaling deeply, he began to walk towards the door. His stomach fluttered as if he were back at school having to take an exam he hadn’t studied for. Only now it wasn’t his grade depending on his success. _It was much worse_.

Bill’s steps echoed behind him as he tried to collect his thoughts.

He had found a book Mabel had to have read or looked through for a reason and he would flick through it as soon as he got Bill out of sight.

But before that he needed to talk to a certain person.

Dipper swallowed hard as a wave of dizziness shot through his mind making him waver. There was no time. He knew Mabel had to have disappeared sometime after their call, after Candy had watched her return to her room, so it couldn’t be more than a day. Though, with all these open questions and this strange uneasiness making his stomach squirm even a day seemed too much.

He needed to hurry.

~

_It was dark._

_The darkness stretched all around her but it wasn’t a normal, a familiar darkness. The easiest way to describe it might be comparing it to the nightly sky having lost all of its stars and clouds and shapes of the moon, being left blank and cold and dark. A darkness that you would watch with burning eyes, that made it appear as if you were looking into the past and future at the same time. But then it would start moving, wavering, pulsing as if alive, and that couldn’t be, could it?_

_Mabel shivered even though her coat should have protected her from the autumn’s chill that was even less prominent without the wind. She clenched her teeth. Maybe it was the coldness inside her that made her tremble like a leaf?_

_She raised a shaking hand to curl around her legs pressing herself closer to the stone behind her. Her heartbeat raced through her ears and it was the only noise loud enough to hear. There were no animals around her, even the wind steered clear of this area as if there were an invisible wall keeping it at bay._

_Though, she didn’t_ want _to hear another noise because she knew what it would entail._

_She had been lucky long enough, hadn’t she?_

_When she exhaled slowly, it sounded like a radio static, broken and quivering. A hand pressed her bag closer to her body, the only thing keeping her alive at this point._

_She had tried to flee, of course. But just as the wind couldn’t enter this zone she couldn’t leave it, no matter how hard she pushed against the of coldness vibrating air. It didn’t give in and she was stuck. Stuck with waiting, stuck with hoping._

_Stuck with despairing._

_A twig cracked as if something heavy had stepped on it and Mabel froze._

I still have time _, shot through her mind and she clang to that thought like a lifeline._ I still have something left.

_For now._

~

~

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Because of real life I need a little more time until I'll upload the next chapter but I'll surely finish this!)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for not uploading sooner, especially as I got some really nice comments (and I feel even more bad because I know that it's gonna take some time until I'll upload the next chapter :( I hope you can forgive me! I'll finish this story, sooner or later.)

**Chapter 7**

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~

~

Candy wasn’t at the reception desk this time. A pale young woman that appeared barely of age had replaced her, dark blond ringlets curling to her chin and a smile plastered to her face that didn’t manage to hide her fatigue. Everyone in this town seemed to be constantly tired, Dipper noted. He had yet to look into a truly happy face and it was difficult to shake off the feeling of uneasiness this observation only reinforced.

It must have to do with those _missing people_ , those _dead_ , _mutilated_ people… Dipper had to suppress a shiver. It was no miracle that the townspeople were nervous with a killer on the loose. And even though he might have the name of this killer, he couldn’t report it to the police. The broken memory of a former demon could hardly count as believable testimony and Dipper doubted that this Tom Gana would even appear in a local phone book.

Luckily enough, he didn’t have to ask for Candy as the opening entrance revealed her a second later, the black hair pinned-up and a newspaper in her hand.

“Oh,” she murmured when her gaze fell on him, a small smile grazing her lips. “Good morning, Dipper, Bill. Did-”

She paused squinting as if not really believing what she was seeing. Dipper knew it was because of his dark expression, the tense jaw that couldn’t hide his churning emotions and thoughts. Her fingers curled a bit tighter around the newspaper wrinkling it up. “Eh, did you already talk to Mabel, Dipper?”

Dipper opened his mouth wanting to talk around the topic before revealing the truth so as not to disturb her too much. But his heartbeat sped up again and a wave of sickness reminded him that he didn’t have time. It wasn’t easy and he shouldn’t take it easy. He needed to act.

When he spoke, he was surprised his voice didn’t quiver. Maybe it was because he forced every emotion out of it leaving it flat and cold.

“She disappeared, Candy. Her room’s empty, the window open.”

“ _W-What_?!” Candy’s eyes went wide as plates, her shriek loud enough to make the woman at the reception desk flinch. She began to shake her head with an intensity that made Dipper fear her glasses would fall off. “I… I haven’t seen her… how can she… _how_ …?”

For a moment Dipper wanted to join her in her rising panic that flooded the air like pouring rain. It would have been easy to give in to the urge to let himself get carried away by the waves of worry and anger. He could close his eyes and deny all risks and fears and live in the moment. He wouldn’t have to think, he wouldn’t need to concentrate on a plan. He wouldn’t risk being a disappointment. But then again, wouldn’t he be a much greater disappointment if he didn’t try at all?

With the deep breath he took came a surge of new energy, albeit only after shoving his burning emotions to the far end of his mind. He needed to focus, needed to focus on saving Mabel.

“Candy, I need to know if Mabel’s told you something about why she’s here, about her research or whatever she’s been doing, _please_ , I-“ He swallowed as his voice grew more fractured jumping like a stone on the water’s surface. When he continued, it was free of emotions again. “I need to find her.”

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry, Dipper.” Candy’s lips quivered as she began to blink rapidly trying to stop approaching tears. A hand clasped around her mouth stifling a sob but the following words were only slightly muffled. “I didn’t believe you when you said she’s in danger… and now she might be… _oh my god_ …”

Dipper wanted to repeat himself, his skin itching with the terrible feeling of not making process. But then Candy’s hand sank down clenching to a fist at her side as her gaze focused again. When she whirled around gesturing to Bill and him to follow her, it was enough of a surprise to make Dipper Freeze.

“ _Come_.”

A few minutes later they were in a room that didn’t look like it should be entered by hotel guests. When Candy switched on the only light bulb in the centre of the ceiling, it needed a few seconds to flicker to life. Even switched on it didn’t make the room more appealing, not when there were rows of dust-covered shelves with similar-looking files that appeared as if they were last flipped through ten years ago. Though, there was something that did stand out.

At the very back of the room there was a small wooden desk with an uncomfortable looking chair in front of it. It was only when Dipper stepped closer that he recognised the papers that spread across the surface.

They were newspapers, yellow-tinted in the dim light. However, Dipper could still make out pictures and headlines. His breath got stuck somewhere between his ribs as his gaze flickered across them.

_Missing girl found – Body seemingly ripped apart by wild animal_

One of the depicted photos, a small one which rather belonged on a passport, showed a dark-haired girl with brown eyes that didn’t smile even though there were tiny wrinkles at her eyes that indicated she had to laugh often. Before her apparent death, that was. There was no doubt she was the unnamed girl meant by the headline.

The other photo showed a police car that filled out most of the space even though there were no people inside. It was strange to look at. A second glance made him recognise the trunks and leaves of dark green pine trees and Dipper realised the photo must have been made somewhere close to the woods. A shiver ran down his spine even though he didn’t know why.

So _that_ was frightening the people of Gravity Falls.

“How many have been found already?” Dipper’s voice was low as he didn’t dare to raise it in fear of being unable to speak. His stomach twirled in a way that made him wonder if he would ever be hungry enough to eat again. Or simply able to. Even though he tried, he couldn’t shake off Durland’s words completely. _It’s the corpses that are being found that worry me…_ , the cruel voice of his memory whispered. _Hope that she won’t be found…_

“How long does it usually take until… they’re found?”

“Two have been found,” Candy murmured next to him, slowly pronouncing the words as if it pained her to speak them. “An old lady and the lifeguard, both found after a day or two. However, there are two people missing for three weeks now and, _well_ … they don’t think they’ll find them…”

Dipper felt cold but it wasn’t a normal sensation of coldness that went away after being in the sun for a few minutes. The coldness swept right through his skin and into the mark of his bones, into his blood, freezing veins and flesh in a way that erased all of his thoughts except pain. Terrible, aching _pain_. He let out the breath through his teeth, his fingers clutching the fabric of his jeans.

Then he frowned lifting his gaze to look at Candy. “B-but the girl in the photo, doesn’t she belong to them?”

“Hm, M-Mabel certainly thought so, she…” Candy pointed back to the newspaper as her voice broke off. “Look at the date.”

Dipper’s eyes widened as he followed her instructions and for a moment he was unable to speak, his tongue sticking to his throat. Then he forced himself to open his mouth, the black numbers forming _10-16-2022_ still wavering before his inner eye. “It has happened before…,” he whispered.

“Y-yeah, that was what Mabel’s told me. We didn’t talk too much about it because I had work to do and I… this thing, it _scares_ me… Mabel’s so brave and I… I wish I’d listened more… I wish…” Her voice was barely more than a breath when she arrived at the last words, the syllables leaping unsteadily. Dipper felt old guilt burning through his body hotter than ever. _I know how you feel_ , he wanted to say _. I’m not better. I’m so much worse actually_ …

But he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back on it and it would leave him unable to do what had to be done. He sighed fighting the urge to press his eyelids together or rub the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know how he could go on, he just knew he needed to do it, needed to stay strong, go on, go on, one step at a time, because he couldn’t stay in the moment, even for a second. He didn’t have _time_.

“You don’t need them, do you?”, Dipper asked moving even before Candy shook her head slightly. In a fluent motion he grabbed the old newspaper articles that Mabel had looked at folding them to stuff them between the pages of the leather-bound book.

It was in that moment that he noticed a small piece of paper floating to the ground, a white glint in the air. _It must have fallen out of the book_ , Dipper realised rushing to catch it before it would touch the lilac carpet.

Or he would have, if Bill hadn’t beat him to it. He snatched it out of its fall right when Dipper reached out his hand forcing him to let it sink back at his side awkwardly. He would have ripped it out of Bill’s fingers if he hadn’t remembered that Candy was with them. To her, they still were ‘ _friends from work’_.

It also wouldn’t appear right if he began to glare daggers in Bill’s direction, so he tried to keep his face neutral even though his mind was screaming.

He didn’t want Bill to be involved in this and yet that bastard kept finding ways to entangle himself in this mess over and over again. Though, there was a part of him that wondered, wondered if Bill might be of help, if it wouldn’t be better to pursue his apparent connection to Mabel’s abductor more intently?

If not now, it might still become necessary in the future even though he couldn’t think of something more off-putting than having to deal with some kind of supernatural killer. He wanted his sister back, alive and whole, _dammit_! He didn’t want to face new problems when he hadn’t even resolved the old ones.

Shoving away these thoughts he watched Bill’s expression change to a frown as his eyes flew over the writing. Though, it didn’t seem to interest him that much because it took him less than a second to shrug letting go of the piece of paper without any prior warning.

“ _Hey_! That might be important!”, Dipper yelled unable to hide his anger, his muscles itching with the desire to push Bill into the next room and leaving the door locked to have him out of his sight until he’d found Mabel. Or maybe until the end of days. He would certainly do the world a favour.

“It’s just a grocery list, Pine Tree,” Bill sneered. “Though, your sister does seem to have an odd taste in food, I sure hope yours is different.”

Dipper hardly listened to him as he was busy trying to catch the paper. _Again_. This time successfully.

When he looked at the words written on it, his heart sank as a part of him realised that Bill might be right. There was no secret code, no encrypted message, not even a name or address that could advance his investigation. There was no title, the words written neatly beneath each other, separated by short hyphens.

_\- lavender tea_

_\- goat cheese_

_\- primroses_

_\- salt_

_\- four chicken wings_

_\- elderberry Juice_

Dipper blinked once, twice, but the words didn’t transform. They stayed their old, mundane self without a hint as to why they had been hidden in a book about demons. It wasn’t even Mabel’s writing even though it reminded him of something. Or someone? Perhaps he knew the person who had written the list. Candy maybe? He frowned. No, she must have had enough time by now to read the words herself by looking over his shoulder and would have told him so.

Well, he could reflect on it later on.

Not wanting to give Bill the satisfaction of admitting his misjudgement, he suppressed a sigh and tucked the paper in the pocket of his jeans without a second thought. Maybe it would turn out important after all. Maybe not. But he couldn’t take the risk, could he?

Bill was grinning at him when Dipper looked up and he had to bite his lip not to pull a face or glare at him.

Instead, he turned to Candy. He lifted the book letting it dangle from his thumb and index finger as to let her get a look. “Do you know this?”

She squinted slightly pursing her lips. “It’s Mabel’s, isn’t it? She already had it when she arrived if I remember correctly… do you think it can help find her?” Her eyes went wide as a shadow wavered through her gaze. “This thing that’s killing people… you think it’s _supernatural_ , don’t you, Dipper?”

Dipper’s head didn’t move. However, his pupils did flicker to the side as he gave in to the urge to glance at Bill. It couldn’t have been more than a second but he felt a rush of adrenaline running through his blood as if he had committed a crime. He could only hope that Candy either hadn’t noticed or hadn’t connected the _wrong_ dots.

“Eh, it could be,” he murmured, heart beating faster than usual as he pressed the book back against his side. He chuckled even though it sounded more nervous than anything else and quickly faded away like screeching tires. “It’s Gravity Falls after all, hm?”

Candy looked at him without blinking and without responding for a long second and the dust in the air that hadn’t been too prominent before almost made him choke now.

Then she nodded. “It _is_ Gravity Falls.”

Dipper couldn’t tell if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult, but he also didn’t care. He knew what this town meant to _him_ and that was enough.

“Do you know anything else that might help me?” He raised his brows.

Candy shrugged her shoulders but then her eyes widened slightly, the iris almost touching the rim of her glasses. “Mabel wanted to talk to Wendy yesterday just before…” Her voice went quiet. “ _You know_ … she... she told me so at breakfast. I’m not sure if that’s helpful but I thought you should know.”

Dipper was too stunned to speak, his heart skipping a beat. When he managed to open his mouth wider than a paper-width, his voice quivered of tension. “ _Wendy’s_ still living here? We’re talking of the same Wendy? Wendy Corduroy?”

“Oh.” Candy’s blinked a few times as if surprised by Dipper’s sudden outburst. “Yeah. She’s a police officer now.”

“ _Oh my…”_ Dipper let out the breath through his teeth closing his eyes for a moment to clear his thoughts. His heart ached with a slow and heavy pain, the kind of pain that wasn’t too strong but steady like a bullet in his chest that twisted his flesh with every breath. He didn’t want to think of the last time he had seen her. But he knew that meeting her would only renew these terrible, these damned memories he didn’t want to remember.

But it seemed as if there was no way around it.

If he wanted to help his sister, he needed to try everything, needed to pursue every possibility.

Even this.

~

Dipper _had_ asked Bill if he didn’t prefer staying at the hotel when going back to grab his coat but, of course, he also could have talked to a wall. Bill didn’t even grace his question with an answer.

They hadn’t completed half the walk to the address Candy had given him when he was reminded once more _why_ he hadn’t wanted Bill to accompany him.  

A hand curled around his upper arm stopping him in his tracks and sending him stumbling forward. His free hand twirled in search for support through the air like a flightless bird, his heart racing in his throat as he couldn’t decide between gasping for breath and screaming. He did neither because Bill began pulling him away right when he regained balance.

“ _What the heck_ are you doing?!” Eyes widening, Dipper tried to tear his arm out of Bill’s grip. Without success. He began waving into the vague direction of Wendy’s address, the motion more of a mindless spinning of his hand. He pushed his heels into the ground to make Bill slow down, to no avail. Anger began bubbling up inside him making his voice waver and his headache worse. “We need to go _that_ way!”

_Can’t you try not to stand in my way at least one freaking time?_

“I’m hungry,” Bill said as if it was the answer to all questions. Dipper felt a vein throb at his forehead that definitely shouldn’t be throbbing at all. It was only then that he realised where Bill was dragging him to.

There was only one diner shaped like a fallen redwood log after all.

For a few seconds Dipper felt as if he had fallen through time, his skin prickling as he eyed the big sign displaying the words _Greasy's Diner_ and the smaller one stating _We have food_ like it hadn’t been obvious already.  

Caught by the familiar sight, his resistance faded as the tension left his muscles even though he still wasn’t really going along. A part of him wondered why Bill hadn’t given up on dragging a dead weight after him. Why did he even bother?

 _Probably because he wants to catch me off guard_ , his mind supplied sending a dark expression to his face. _Because he wants to know more. He can’t let me out of his sight because of the same reason I want him out of mine…_

As they came Closer he realised the old restaurant wasn’t exactly like its past self after all. The wooden pole that had once prompted the customer with a sign to _EAT_ was missing as if it had been blown away by a storm sometime ago. The only indication that it had once towered over the roof at all was a patch of grassless earth, slightly dented. There were small cracks and holes in the wood of the signs as well, the colour darkened from the whitish tone it had possessed once.

The scent of deep-fried food and maple syrup filled the air intensifying as they approached the stairs and it was enough to make him gag even though his empty stomach fluttered hopefully. He didn’t want to eat. He _didn’t_. He had no time to eat.

“How about _you_ eat something while _I_ talk to Wendy?”, Dipper snarled wrinkling his nose as he tried to keep himself from throwing up whatever would be able to creep up his throat. His chest hurt with every breath he didn’t use to find Mabel. “I don’t have time to waste! You’ve heard Candy, a day or two at best! _I…_ ”

He closed his eyes as nausea flooded his body, his world wavering as if he were standing on a boat in the midst of roaring waves. His right foot hit something that could only be the beginning of the stairs making him lose his balance but he didn’t fight to regain it, his muscles heavy and trembling. If Bill hadn’t been holding onto his arm he would have collapsed on the ground.

“Well, I say you’ve got better chances of saving your sis if you’re not close to fainting out of hunger every few minutes. Trust me.”

Dipper snorted, a grin rushing over his lips that wasn’t happy at all. Trusting Bill Cipher? He had heard better jokes in kindergarten. Though, it did give him a surge of energy, enough to make him blink slowly until his lids stayed open, shapes and colours sharpening before his eyes.

“And besides, you’re still owing me half a pizza.” Bill grinned at him in the same damn way as always, that way that seemed both treacherous and too enthusiastic. How could anyone be grinning that much?

Dipper straightened his back making a step to the side as he realised that he had almost fallen against Bill. Though, the grip around his arm still prevented a more comfortable distance. Somewhere in his chest his heart skipped a beat.  

“I don’t owe you anything,” he growled shaking his head. “ _You_ decided to come after me, not the other way around.” He also didn’t have the money to pay but he would rather tear out his own tongue than admit it in front of _him_.

“Ah?” Bill lifted a brow, the yellow of his eyes bright and radiant in the sun’s light. He moved just a bit closer. “If you don’t have the money I’m sure we can agree on another payment.”

Of course, he was referring to answers to the questions about his past. He was, wasn’t he? He _had to_. There was nothing else he could mean. _Nothing_. At least that was what Dipper was telling himself when his face flushed with a heat that had nothing do with the sun.

“Alright,” Dipper sighed drawing out the word as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m going with you. But first, we don’t stay for longer than half an hour and second, I’m _not_ paying for your stupid food.” He narrowed his eyes. “Got it?”

Bill shrugged lightly. “I can live with that.”

“And now, _please_.” Dipper glared at Bill as if he wanted to burn him with his gaze, his voice dripping poison. “ _Keep you fucking hands to yourself!_ ”

Bill didn’t flinch even though his eyes widened and his grin wavered before he rolled his eyes. However, his grip did loosen and Dipper’s heartbeat calmed down although he hadn’t noticed its acceleration before. He took a deep breath before beginning to climb the stairs, Bill following him like a shadow. A damn annoying shadow.

~

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~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed I've already written the next chapter OO (Thanks for your support btw) (Also, if anyone wants to betaread this story, I'd appreciate it)

**Chapter 8**

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~

Dipper fully intended not to eat anything.

He wasn’t hungry, didn’t want to waste the miserable number of coins and notes left in his wallet, and, despite what Bill was thinking, he felt _good_. Absolutely fine! Healthy enough to do whatever was necessary.

He did order a coffee to keep up the pretence. A dark-skinned teenager with black curls was their waiter, named _Gale_ according to the tag on his purple shirt. He lifted his extraordinarily thick brows eying Dipper for a few seconds and probably deeming him a loser before scribbling a few words onto his notepad.

That was when Dipper averted his eyes not wanting to listen to Bill making his order. He tried to ignore the itch of his muscles that yelled at him to run and save Mabel. It only seemed to worsen by the minute, steady and annoying like a headache he couldn’t escape. His teeth hurt from clenching them during the last three or so minutes.

The interior of _Greasy's Diner_ had hardly changed. There were the same ball-sized lamps, the same yellowish wooden seats next to each other and the same brown table plate between them. Bill had chosen a seat next to a window making it possible to look right into the sun-lit forest. Dipper might have done so a minute too long taking in the way the wind blew through dark green fir needles, the way it made the trees dance like a green sea. There even were birds sweeping through the gaps between leafed twigs, fleeting colourful dabs in the air.

All in all, it was a sight as harmless and peaceful as it could get. Nevertheless, Dipper felt a cold shiver running down his spine that even spread to his fingertips making them tremble. He grabbed the white napkin lying rolled-up in the centre of the table and twirled it around his fingers but the involuntary motion only faded slowly.

“…Tree? _You there_?!”

Dipper flinched when a waving hand crashed into his field of vision pulling him out of his thoughts as if he were falling into icy water. His eyes didn’t need more than a second to focus on Bill and why was it the bastard couldn’t give him the tiniest moment of piece?

“ _What_?!”, Dipper snapped picking up his glare again. He shouldn’t have given in. He should have already been at Wendy’s, dammit. Why was he uselessly sitting around? Why did he waste the precious time that was left?

“I’d thought I’d lost you there for a second.” Bill snickered even though there was a flicker rushing through his eyes that seemed genuinely… concerned? Dipper couldn’t be sure and it disappeared too soon to be certain that it had been there at all.

“You shouldn’t think about it too much, you know? Only makes it worse. Loosen up a bit, hm?”

“You’re _not_ being helpful,” Dipper ground out, his legs twitching as if wanting to stand up and leave this damn diner. “If you can’t say anything worth the time I need to listen, _shut up_.”

Bill pursed his lips. “I’m trying to be the reasonable one here, Pine Tree! Why even talk to that girl? Riley, or… what was it again?” He shook his head, an expression twisting his face as if he had bitten into a lemon, skin and all. “I thought we agreed that _I_ am the only one having a clue about the fate of your sister. I thought we’d work together, you tell me about my past and I help you save her, and now we’re back to covering our ears and screaming into the void again?”

As if it was that easy.

 _I’ve already told you more than I should have_ , Dipper wanted to say but his lips stayed sealed, his heart jumping in his chest.

 _I don’t want you to help me_ , he wanted to say. Because if Bill could really help him, it meant that Dipper had to deal with the supernatural again, and he felt his limbs growing heavy at the very thought of it. He was alone, no sister, no Grunkles, no journals to help him with something he hadn’t had to face for twenty years and he… was scared. He didn’t know if he would be up to it when it came to confronting something that _Bill Cipher_ called dangerous. He didn’t know if he wouldn’t make it worse.

“ _I…_ ,” he tried but his voice broke off, barely more than a croak. His hand clenched around the napkin and he flinched when the fabric tore. Like his body that was being ripped apart. His insides twisted. Closing his eyes, he let go of the napkin to rub his forehead, his bangs dry and scratchy to the touch.

“What happened here, Dipper Pines?”

Bill’s voice was dripping with something Dipper couldn’t name. Maybe he didn’t even try to focus on it, the words floating across his minds like rain clouds threatening to drown the world. He didn’t even notice the strange use of his full name instead of the usual nickname.

“What are you scared of?”

Dipper’s eyes shot open, wide and unblinking, his blood running cold. His hand fell down. Bill looked at him in a way that a casual viewer might have described as calm, a brow slightly lifted as he waited for an answer. However, there was something in his expression, in the tight line of his mouth that made Dipper think, _only for a tiny moment_ , that Bill might be genuinely interested, that he might even feel sorry for him.

That was when the waiter returned letting a steaming cup of coffee crash onto the table in front of Dipper, a few drops jumping over the rim.

“Here you go,” he muttered in a bored voice breaking the tension that had built up without Dipper’s notice.

He took a shaky breath, grateful that Bill wasn’t focusing on him anymore, and swallowed the wave of nausea that threatened to creep up his throat. He watched as Gale put down the glass of orange juice Bill had seemingly ordered, the sweet scent almost teasingly strong in the air, – as well as _two_ plates of pancakes, covered with crossed lines of syrup.

“You’re sure you can eat all of that?”, Dipper murmured absentmindedly, one hand curling around the warm porcelain of his mug but without raising it to drink. It was only when he saw the grin on Bill’s face widening in a way that screamed _what a dumb question_ that it occurred to him that Bill might have intended for someone else to eat a plate. And who might that be? _Take a clever guess…_

Dipper narrowed his eyes even before Bill shoved one plate across the table. It almost brushed his fingers that were clenched around the cup of coffee.

“I can’t let you go without eating, can I? What if you’re blacking out in my company and the police thinks _I’m_ the killer? _Tsk_.” He shook his head, grin weirdly out of place in regard to the rather dark content of his words. “Not on my watch.”

“I’m not hungry,” Dipper growled but his stomach fluttered at the thought of fighting its too long emptiness and he had to gulp down the saliva building up in his mouth. He still felt sick, nausea and dizziness floating at the back of his head, but it was more like they were hidden in mist, overridden by a pang of hunger.

“And _I_ don’t care about the lies you tell yourself.” Bill rolled his eyes already beginning to cut a pancake into triangular pieces to eat.

“I won’t pay for this.” Dipper sighed under his breath before slowly reaching out to grab a fork with a, hand and a knife with the other.

When he began to twirl a piece of pancake around the fork, he felt oddly calm as if the banality of the situation, of eating a warm, normal meal, as unusual as the circumstances were, pushed away his tension. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sat with someone else in a diner to eat lunch, and now it was with Bill Cipher of all people.

“And to make it clear, I’m only doing this because I can’t let the food go to waste.”

“ _Sure_ , Pine Tree,” Bill chuckled.

Dipper had to force down the first few bites, his stomach contracting as if shutting down its function completely, but then the cloud of nausea faded and the taste of sugary dough didn’t make him gag anymore. Every new bite tasted less like dry cardboard and in the end, he felt as if someone must have exchanged the plate with another one. It couldn’t be the same meal, could it?

In the end, his stomach stopped twisting, most of the exhaustion had left his body, and the only uneasiness remaining was a slight ache in his chest that was easy to ignore.

Nevertheless, he ate rather slowly and when Bill put his cutlery to the side announcing he would go to the toilet, there was still a piece of pancake about the size of his palm left.

Though, Dipper wasn’t sure if he would even eat it. He hadn’t eaten much in the last days, _weeks?_ , and his stomach wasn’t used to getting regular-sized meals. It had been an apple and coffee to start the day, trying to fight the hunger with more coffee and chewing gum ( _and failing_ ), a can of beans for lunch, and then ending the day with slices of bread and peanut butter, perhaps a piece of frozen pizza if he had felt generous. Not exactly what you would call nutritious, too.

His eyes followed Bill’s back, the white, neatly ironed shirt, until it disappeared out of view and he even kept his gaze at the closed door for a few seconds. Then he frowned wondering why he had done that, his skin prickling even though Bill could have hardly noticed Dipper staring after him.

He shook off this question that his mind couldn’t provide a satisfactory answer to, and perhaps he also didn’t want one. Sighing, he shoved away the plate and piled it upon Bill’s considering asking for the bill. Only for his coffee, of course.

However, he didn’t do it, the thought vanishing out of his mind as if a storm had blown it away as he remembered something else. His heart sped up as he reached inside his coat. Hopefully Bill would stay away a bit longer.

The leather-bound book was heavy between his fingers, the pages dry and dusty even though there were dustless spots indicating that someone had flipped through them not too long ago. _Mabel_.

Sure, he wouldn’t be able to read the whole thing but the time might be enough to get a first impression, maybe even a helpful clue.  

He held his breath as he let _The Craft of Summoning a Demon_ fall open, one thumb flicking through the pages, eyes roaming over words and pictures in a speed that would have put even the most avid reader to shame. After a while, they blurred into each other, fake looking photos of dark creatures with only remote resemblance to humans hidden between shadows and descriptions of obscure rituals and exaggerated warnings that seemed to come straight out of every horror movie ever. Dipper pursed his lips knitting his brows with an increasing confusion.

This book didn’t appear helpful at all. Rather like something your local library would showcase at Halloween as something that had mysteriously appeared in the cellar even though everyone knew that the newest intern had been forced to put it together in the last weeks. A joke.

The only thing making him doubt this idea so far was that the book did seem old, the leather real enough. However, he couldn’t take something seriously that insisted a certain _Demon of Meadows_ must be offered a biscuit in a bowl of milk. He had never even heard of half the things depicted on the pages, let alone read about them in the journals twenty years ago. Why had Mabel read this strange book?

Dipper shook his head lightly. He was about to stuff it back into his pocket but then he flipped open another page and this time he paused.

At the top of the page, right above another dimly lit photo, there were a few handwritten notes, the handwriting one he would always recognise, _Mabel’s_ handwriting. And it wasn’t the only thing standing out. Even before reading her comments, Dipper noticed a lot of the printed words had been underlined or circled with a pink marker.

 _matches Ss description!!,_ his sister had written as well as _- > ask W about it_. W was clearly Wendy but who was meant by S? Dipper took a deep breath before setting the thought to the back of his head for later inspection and letting his gaze wander towards the printed words.

The title was simple enough, much simpler than some of the ridiculous sounding names he had been forced to read before. It was one that sounded somewhat familiar even though he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. It actually sounded almost too familiar, mostly in a trashy horror film way.

 _Goatman_ , it said.

The photo was halfway blurred as if something had come rushing through the bottom half at rapid speed. It was dark, as all the previous pictures had been, but the longer he stared at the shadows the darker they seemed to get making it almost impossible to make out any shapes. Dipper narrowed his eyes, a chill running down his spine he couldn’t explain.

Lifting the book closer to his eyes he could spot a few lines, lines that formed a silhouette. Dipper thought it had an almost uncanny resemblance to a human as he noted the arch of an unmistakably human chest above blurry human legs. Though, when it came to the head or rather the place where the head should be, there was blackness spreading to the lower parts of the photo like spilled ink.

Dipper gulped down a sudden wave of nausea as he squinted a bit more to… actually notice something in the sea of shadows. A lighter shade, sparkling dots, as if there was something reflecting the light of the sun, or maybe the flash of a camera. Eyes? And something else, bigger, higher above, twirled but solid, like… horns.

_Hm._

Dipper shut the book as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the air like bullets, his stomach twisting in a weird way. When he stuffed _The Craft of Summoning a Demon_ hastily back into his pocket, his fingers were trembling again, ice digging through his flesh.

Probably having noted Dipper’s uneasiness Bill shot him a confused look lifting a brow. He opened his mouth but Dipper hurried to cut him off even before his words could fill the air.

“I’m done. Let’s pay and get going, okay?”

~

The address Candy had given them led to a small house with wooden walls that looked like someone had fitted countless trunks of trees next to each other, a maroon roof propped on top. There were some square windows although dark green curtains prevented a peek inward.

To the left and right of the green painted front door the leaves and yellow blossoms of rose bushes were dancing in the wind, neatly trimmed and free of weed.

 _Candy didn’t mention a boyfriend,_ Dipper thought pausing _, she must make quite a lot of money if she can afford a home like this on her own_. It didn’t make him more eager to talk to her. If it weren’t for Mabel, he would probably avoid her at all costs. Hell, he wouldn’t even have returned to Gravity Falls.

When he glanced at Bill out of the corner of his eye, there was the same sour expression displayed in his facial features as in the diner, his eyes narrowed slightly as they roamed over the building.

“Doesn’t look like someone’s there.” He stopped right next to Dipper before shrugging halfway as he moved to turn around. Dipper felt his blood temperature rising. “Let’s-“

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He shook his head and made a point to straighten his back and walk towards the door with grand strides. “We can’t even see anything. She could be cooking at the back of the house.” Or rather opening a can of soup. Wendy had never been much of an enviable cook.

Bill snorted somewhere behind Dipper’s back but the louder growing tapping of his footsteps indicated he wasn’t turning around yet.

Dipper reached out to knock against the door, almost feeling the solid wood against his skin already. That was when an unfamiliar voice echoed through the air, somewhat distorted by the distance.

“Do you want to see Wendy Corduroy?!”

Frowning, Dipper turned around to look at a young man, late twenties maybe, standing in the pavement. He had dark hair that was cut short in a way that made it impossible to tell the exact shade of colour, lightly tanned skin and a strong jawline halfway hidden by an untidy stubble. His arms were crossed as if he wasn’t entirely sure if it had been the right decision to talk to a stranger.

“Yeah,” Dipper yelled back, almost tired from being forced to raise his voice. A muscle at his temple twitched and he grimaced, already sensing what kind of words would follow. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry, man. I’ve seen her running to her car not even five minutes ago.” The guy made a vague gesture towards the road. His expression changed softening with something like uncertainty. Perhaps he was even biting his lip although Dipper couldn’t be sure at this distance. “She wore her uniform… I think… I think they found another one…”

Dipper froze, eyes widening. When he stumbled forward the earth seemed to waver, his voice like shards of ice. “Another… _what_?!”

The man lifted his hands, a nervous flicker rushing through his expression as he averted his gaze. “Don’t wanna think about it, man,” he said before turning around. When he began to walk away, his steps seemed a bit too fast, a bit too hasty as if he were forcing himself not to run. “I’d try again tomorrow if I were you…”

He hadn’t given an answer to the question but if Dipper was being honest, he already knew it.

“I take a _wiii-ld_ guess and say they’ve found another corpse,” Bill drawled. The words made Dipper’s head jerk to the side to stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and anger, a feeling that was further heated up by the damn grin around his lips. “What about you, Pine Tree? Wanna bet against me?”

For a moment Dipper wasn’t able to move, let alone speak as if the whole world had stopped to turn, his body and mind frozen in time and the only exception his trembling heart.

“You’re…,” he choked out, shaking his head in a way that probably made him look as if he was having a seizure. _How can… he…?_ He had to close his eyes as a wave of dizziness threatened to knock him off his feet. “Incredible.”

When he opened his eyes again, Bill was staring right into his pupils, his face close enough to notice the fine lines of the triangular scars beneath his eye, close enough not to be able to tell what kind of expression he was making. At least not when Dipper felt all of his focus captured by the oddly fiery look of his eyes. Odd how he hadn’t noticed Bill approaching until now.

Without blinking Dipper backed off as if he had burned himself although they hadn’t even touched, his heart stuttering in his chest.

“Well, I take that as a compliment.” When Bill put a hand on his shoulder to push him forward, it sent him stumbling until he remembered how to keep the balance. It took him embarrassingly long to walk firmly, his breath going embarrassingly fast. How old was he? Sixty?

“I hope you won’t keep freezing randomly. We should hurry if we want to catch your girl at the police station,” Bill added, voice playful enough. “I doubt she’ll wait for us.”

Dipper blinked a few times, head empty as if someone had sucked every single thought out of it. The wind blew against his face, his hair twirling through his view, and it was cold enough to make the hair at his neck stand up. Or maybe the reason was a different one entirely. However, he kept walking with heavy legs, Bill beside him.

“Y-you’re right,” he breathed, still trying to get his head around those words. They had been simple enough, hadn’t they? Why did his mind go blank as if refusing to believe Bill had said what he had most definitely said? “We… we should go to the police station.”

It was easy to focus on one step, then another until he was walking in a steady rhythm. It was easy to focus on this change of plan, to focus on going to the police station as they needed to go there, Wendy wasn’t here, was she? She was at the police station. They needed to go there. She was there, there to…there to… 

Dipper didn’t know why but his throat felt as if someone had stuffed a cloth into it. There was a dry burning, a weight cutting off his breath, and he was close to sobbing. Blinking rabidly, he managed to force away the tears, his view on the streets clear. Why was there even the urge to sob? Why was there a grey blanket toning down the colours of the houses, of the trees? Why… why did he feel as if the world came crashing down?

They had only found yet another lost… dead… mutilated… person.

It wasn’t as if… as if it was… it couldn’t be, could it? _It couldn’t be_.

_Mabel is alive._

~

~

~


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

~

~

~

They way back was both as long as a flight around the earth and short as the blink of an eye.

When Dipper saw the police car approach and drift around the corner right next to the hotel with screeching tires, it was a lucky coincidence. He paused, heart racing as he watched it disappear behind the buildings, the buildings next to the street that would lead right through the forest.

And he knew what to do.

Bill didn’t say anything when Dipper turned around to hurry to his own car and a few minutes later they were sitting inside following the policemen’s track, a few miles per hour above the speed limit. He hardly saw anything else than the bright taillights of the police car about fifty metres away from them, the green of the trees and bushes a blurry mixture at the borders of his consciousness. His own car wavered on the halfway overgrown and brittle street like a boat in a wind-swept sea but it didn’t matter.

He wouldn’t stop until he knew the truth.

If he hadn’t been caught up in this buzzing panic, he might have wondered about the length of time it took until the police car stopped. Though, when it did, Dipper, stunned, kept pushing the gas and surely would have caused a crash if Bill hadn’t reached over to yank the steering wheel around.

A second later they were rushing down an even smaller path, his heart skipped a beat and he might have died a bit, but then his foot managed to find the brakes. It was no pretty sound when the car screeched to a halt, but to a halt it came.

Dipper winced, breath too hasty and almost as loud as his heartbeat. He hadn’t noticed how much he was clenching the steering wheel but his fingers were white and tense when his gaze fell on them. He couldn’t feel them, not really, not when his mind was still trying to return to reality. He might have needed a lot longer to loosen his hands if Bill hadn’t raised his voice.

“You know, I _do_ want to live a few more years, Pine Tree. Don’t do that again, yeah? _I_ ’ve almost got a heart attack and I’m way younger than you.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?,” Dipper muttered opening the car door. “Now, come.”

Bill didn’t throw in another one of his dumb comments. He might have rolled his eyes but Dipper wasn’t looking at him anyway, so who cared? There were more important things to do.

It was easy enough to follow the voices floating through the woods. They were perhaps not clear enough to understand more than a word or two but they were unmistakably human. There was even a female voice that sounded suspiciously like that of a certain redhead and Dipper’s heart jumped to his throat.  

Twigs crackled beneath his feet as he stepped through the woods, blood rushing through his ears. It would take just a few more moments until he would know whose corpse had been found, _who_ it was that had died. A shiver trickled down his spine like shards of ice. He wanted to run. Though, was it away or deeper into the woods, to the truth?

“…can’t be dead for a long time, maybe twelve hours at most,” Wendy said and there was no mistaking now. Dipper recognised her voice with an ease that came from spending some of his most precious memories with her even though it did sound different in a way. The playfulness was gone, and it was like watching a film without music, a sad limitation of what was possible.

“It’s… it’s him, isn’t it? Nicolas Isler.”

_… Nicolas…him…a guy…_

Wendy added something else but Dipper didn’t listen. He wasn’t able to when he could hardly listen to his own thoughts twirling and jumping about like bouncy balls inside his mind. He closed his eyes for a second, two maybe, breathing, because he could breathe again, and the oxygen was even sweeter than the pancakes had been. _It’s a guy_ , he thought. His vision grew blurry with tears but for once he couldn’t care less. _Mabel’s alive, she’s alive, and I’ll find her. I’ll find her…_

A rush of energy revived his body and he swallowed down the weight in his chest, lifted a trembling hand to rub his eyes.

He took a step forwards, might have taken another one if he hadn’t glimpsed the clearing between densely grown trees and bushes. He froze, the hesitant smile that had been tugging at his lips fading away, and it was weird how he hadn’t noticed the thick scent clinging to his surroundings like a blanket before.

It made him gag, almost brought him to his knees, the fight against the nausea lost as soon as it began. The sickeningly sweet, coppery aroma covered his tongue the moment he opened his mouth, and it wasn’t possible but he felt as if he were drowning in blood. As if the dark red liquid ran down the canals of his ears, as if it poured down his throat, as if it filled up his lungs with no hope for another breath, blinding him, suffocating him.

When he shook his head and the terrible sensation away, his hand was clutching the trunk of the nearest oak, knuckles white and trembling.

There was red in the sea of green in front of him. He couldn’t see the whole body but what he could see made him wonder how Wendy had even managed to identify the poor, poor man. There was no piece of clothing on his lower body, or what must be the lower body. Dipper could only be half-certain. Both feet were missing, half a leg as well, and what was left resembled more a huge piece of raw meat, greyish bones poking out of torn flesh and open skin.

A part of Dipper was glad he couldn’t see more than that, who knew what had happened to the head? To a face that people had looked up to with love, with warmth in their eyes? They wouldn’t be looking at it again.

He didn’t want to go closer. His legs began to shake just thinking about it, but he had to, right? He clenched his teeth, nose wrinkling even though he tried his best to breathe through his mouth. He had to talk to Wendy. It might not be the best idea to disturb the police investigation but he couldn’t wait any longer.

He closed his eyes gathering himself. He might have just slipped through the gap between two slightly smaller trees if his mind hadn’t used this moment of clarity to remind him of his rather unwelcome companion. _Bill_.

 _Weird how he hasn’t said anything so far_ , shot through Dipper’s mind. Maybe he had actually listened to him for once?

When Dipper turned his head to scan the woods around him, he had to realise that, sadly, Bill wasn’t learning to keep quiet for a while. Or, well, he couldn’t be because he wasn’t there. He was gone.

_Dammit._

His pulse, after having been calm for barely a minute, quickened as if Dipper had broken into a sprint, heart racing as if threatening to escape his ribcage. He couldn’t even say why he felt as if the earth were wavering beneath his feet, why panic tried to claw its way into his mind and sanity, but he could say that he had never hated Bill more than in that moment. Oddly enough, it didn’t really feel like hate. Though, it couldn’t be anything else, could it?

Dipper didn’t follow this trail of thoughts because that was when a speck of colour caught his eye, thirty, maybe forty metres away, halfway hidden by dark leaves and quivering twigs. Blonde hair, a familiar trench coat. Bill. Freaking walking into the opposite direction of the clearing, of _Wendy_.

“Oh, damn you,” Dipper muttered under his breath before bracing his muscles and running after him. He really shouldn’t have made the decision that quickly, that easily. He should have weighed up the arguments for and against it, and why did he even care about what Bill was doing or not? Why did it matter if he disappeared into the forest? Mabel, talking to Wendy, was far more important that catching a straying former demon.

However, Dipper was the one who had brought him back to this town. Bill was his responsibility, wasn’t he? Dipper couldn’t let him out of his view, especially not in a forest that was filled to the rim with supernatural creatures, filled to the rim with familiar buildings and places, only waiting for an opportunity to trigger lost memories. He couldn’t let it come to this.

At least that was what Dipper was telling himself when he wriggled his body through closely grown trunks and leaped over fallen branches.

A distant part of his mind noticed how quiet it was, unusually quiet. He remembered chirping birds and squeaking squirrels all too well, just like the soft rustling of leaves that gave evidence to the mass of beings that should have come natural to a forest. The silence hang in the air like poisonous gas, even the wind had calmed as if not wanting to roam through this part of the woods.

 _Death_ , Dipper thought shuddering. _They can feel it, the animals, maybe even nature itself_. _They’ve fled…_

It wasn’t the most reassuring thought. It made the itch in his legs only stronger, the itch that yelled at him to flee, too, that wanted him to turn around and never come back. He couldn’t do it, though. He had to get Bill, had to talk to Wendy, had to save Mabel.

“Bill!”, Dipper shouted as soon as he was far enough away from the clearing not to be heard by Wendy and whoever had accompanied her. However, Bill didn’t even pause and Dipper couldn’t help but wonder if he was ignoring him out of spite or if he really hadn’t heard him.

Why was he going into that direction anyway? Dipper would have bet his collection of old Batman comics Bill wouldn’t have wanted to miss the opportunity of making an inappropriate joke or two about the dead man and now it seemed as if he couldn’t care less.

 _Why do you run off after making such a fuss about us staying together?_   Dipper shook his head. If it had been at all possible, his glare would have been able to burn holes into Bill’s back.

Lost in thoughts, he didn’t quite focus on where he was going, and a second later the branch of a tree whipped across his cheek. It made him wince, a curse itching on his tongue, and why was it as if the forest itself was fighting against him? Why did it seem as if the twigs were reaching out to him? As if they were trying to grasp him with wooden claws, trying to hold him, trying to keep him away? Away from Bill?

Clenching his teeth, he dashed past yet another pine tree trying to ignore the tingling fire of the scratch running along the side of his face. Trying to ignore the vague sensation of uneasiness that felt like looking into a wall of mist without knowing what creatures were using those earthly storm clouds as a disguise. Trying to ignore that rush of anticipation and excitement that didn’t feel right, and perhaps that was because it didn’t really belong to him. Or at least not to the present Dipper Pines.

He might have noticed the path they were following and the place it was leading them to, if he hadn’t been too caught up in his thoughts about Bill’s odd behaviour.

When he finally managed to grab his arm, it was too late. The momentum of his leaping steps sent them both stumbling, and even though it wasn’t for long it was enough to make them break out of the woods, make them reach yet another clearing. Dipper couldn’t focus on that, though.

“ _What_ do you think you’re doing?!”, he snarled, red-veiled vision shaking, and there was no way Bill couldn’t hear him now that he was almost screaming right into his ear. “Running off like that, are you crazy?! People have _died_ and you still think it’s all fun and games. I can’t believe it, you utter despicable _idiot_!

Bill’s eyes were narrowed, too. But it was only after a few moments of tense silence, fractured by his own hasty, low breaths, that Dipper noticed that Bill didn’t look angry or irritated but openly confused. At least until he blinked hastily, until the shadow clouding his gaze left his eyes and the oddly familiar smirk returned to its place.

“You have to be careful, Pine Tree, if you keep talking like that I might actually start to believe you care about me.”

“I…” Dipper wasn’t able to reply for a second or two as he stared at him with widened eyes, dry tongue unable to form words. Something fluttered in his chest but he shook his head and the feeling away. “I don’t. Have you even listened to me? I’ve insulted you, hardly what I’d call caring about you.”

Weird how those words made his blood tingle, weird how they seemed to stray through the back of his mind long after he had spoken them.

“A-and don’t change the subject. We need to get back, but first, what in heaven or hell made you think it’s a good idea to take a stroll through the woods at _this_ time?”

Either Dipper was imagining things or Bill was really blushing slightly as he rolled his eyes, and perhaps he had only done so to avoid looking at him. But why?

“Not sure,” Bill muttered, gaze flickering to something to the right side of Dipper. “I guess I wanted to be here. I had a feeling, well more of an itch really, that I should go here but it’s gone now and… I don’t know why I should want to be here anyway. There’s nothing here. Just a few stones and… there aren’t even any plants.” He pursed his lips. “Boring.”

It was only then that Dipper was able to tear his eyes away from Bill and to their surroundings. It was only then that he realised what had made his skin prickle as if trying to remind him of something. It was only then that his blood froze and the last oxygen of his lungs, escaping through clenched teeth, burned his lips like ice.

It was as if a blizzard were closing in on them, but it was too quiet, way too quiet, and Dipper’s hand slid off Bill’s arm as if someone had cut the strings holding it.

He knew why Bill had been drawn to this place, and he knew that Bill mustn’t notice how important this place was, mustn’t know that it wasn’t just a clearing as any other in this gloomy forest. Dipper wanted to avert his gaze, wanted to push Bill back into the woods, but he couldn’t help but stare, paralysed, couldn’t help but feel as if he were drowning in the frozen air.

Because this was where the Mystery Shack had been before blazing flames had devoured it to its very core leaving nothing but blackened wood and grey ashes. There was nothing left from the past, no brick, no piece of furniture, not even the yellowed page of a book. They had made sure to remove all of it from this damned place because there had been nothing they could have saved and there shouldn’t have been anything left to rekindle painful memories. Dipper shouldn’t have returned at all.

A part of him wanted to laugh now. Of course, it wasn’t enough to remove the physical remembrances of the past. He could see the building in front of him as if it had never burned down. He could see its green sloping roof with patches of moss and holes in need of repair, its wooden porch that had creaked beneath his feet at the most inconvenient moments, its large letters forming those words, _Mystery Shack_ , as a welcome to unlucky tourists.

He could see it and yet he could also see the dry earth, dusty and devoid of even the tiniest flower, the emptiness that shouldn’t have been there, a night sky without stars.

Dipper swallowed hard and tasted bile.

He didn’t know why he made the decision to step forward but his thoughts were a rushing sea inside his mind and he wasn’t able to listen to his thoughts. Maybe that was why his heart had to lead him.

If you had looked from further away at the small, flat stone plate, it might have appeared to belong to nature, halfway overgrown by clover and grass, the granite weathered by sun and rain. Something was clenching his heart as Dipper leaned down to brush off specks of dirt and dust, a low sigh humming at the back of his throat.

They hadn’t had much money back then, Mabel and he, but it had been enough to engrave their names at least. Of course, the graves were at a real graveyard, the same place where the funeral had been held, but it had felt necessary to have _something_ here, even if only a simple plate of stone. Something to remind the person looking at it that this wasn’t just an ordinary clearing, that there was a beautiful past clinging to this now desolate place, and perhaps also to remind Dipper himself.

_Stanford & Stanley Pines_

“I’d really love to talk to you right now,” Dipper whispered closing his eyes because it might just be better to imagine himself to another place. Maybe he also didn’t want to give those treacherous tears the opportunity to roll down his cheeks.

Time trickled away in slow strides and he couldn’t bring himself to move, limbs heavy as if he were trying to use them for the first time. He knew even if he tried, he would just end up falling to the ground, knees digging into this ugly, dry earth.

When Bill placed a hand on his shoulder, he tensed up but didn’t have strength for more than a puzzled glance to the side. A part of him knew he should have flinched, should have shaken off this unnecessary extra weight, but it didn’t feel heavy. It was warm, a bit like the first hesitant rays of the spring’s sun after an unusually dull winter, and Dipper liked to think it wasn’t only keeping him standing but also lifting this iron coat off his shoulders, one breath at a time.

“I’m sorry,” Bill said, and there wasn’t even a hint of playfulness in his voice. If Dipper hadn’t known better, he would have called it sombre, sad even. Though, that wouldn’t make sense, right? “You were close, weren’t you? Must have been tough…”

Dipper took a deep breath, eyes fluttering open, blinking the blurriness away. He didn’t want to say anything, he mustn’t say anything, but his lips moved by themselves.

“I should have been there for them,” he muttered and each word made a pang rang through his chest, new cuts to his fragmented heart. “I let them down, and now I’m letting Mabel down, too.”

He snorted, and it was better than crying, but it couldn’t quite help the ache wavering through his body with every heartbeat. “I just _love_ to make the same mistakes over and over again, don’t I?!”

Why was he even talking to Bill? About this of all things? Dipper frowned, cheeks tingling with a heat he tried to ignore, but it was better than that paralysing frost, wasn’t it? _It’s only because there’s no one else here that I could talk to,_ he told himself and almost believed it.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pine Tree!”, Bill exclaimed giving the shoulder a light squeeze before pulling his hand away. “Nothing’s lost yet. Giving up is for the weak! You give it your all or don’t try at all. Easy as that.”

It was almost enough to make Dipper smile.

“You’re lucky you had so many people who loved you, uncles, sister, mother and father too probably. My parents hate me!” Bill laughed but it didn’t want to sound happy. Dipper’s stomach twisted at his words even though he didn’t know why. As if reminding him of something, something he had overlooked. “Well, I also hate _them_ , but you get the idea.”

Dipper blinked a few times, unsure of what to reply. A part of him had to resist the urge to throw his arms around Bill because he might want to sound as if he didn’t care and he might have been able to fool someone else, but Dipper could hear the notes quivering with bitter disappointment well enough.

It didn’t want to fit into his picture of Bill, though, a deformed piece of a jigsaw puzzle, and he tried to ignore the feeling. It was already hard enough to come to terms with the fact that Bill had a family now, that he was as human as Dipper himself.

“I’m sure they don’t _hate_ you,” he murmured before wetting his lips, a memory crossing his mind. “And there’s also your… eh, Lizzy, right?”

The corners of Bill’s mouth rose to something that wasn’t quite a smirk anymore but a genuine smile. Dipper wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself but it did look much better on him. _He should do it more often_ , a distant part of his mind whispered before he shut it down.

“Lizzy, yeah, of course. She’s my grandma, you know. A better mother than my real ma, though…” Bill chuckled, a hand rubbing his neck, almost as if he was nervous. His glance strayed to the other side of the clearing as if he didn’t want to meet Dipper’s eyes. “Well, enough of that. We’ve got-“

His words died off as if someone had cut off his vocal chords, mouth gaping slightly.

Dipper could see his eyes widen, could see the colour vanish from his face as if someone had poured a bucket of icy water over his head. The air was too cold all of a sudden, the silence humming as if charged with electricity, and a part of him wanted to frown because he couldn’t hear a thing, no wind, no animals, not even his own heartbeat.

It was darker now, he realised, no sunlight illuminated the clearing, the sky hidden by clouds. It was weird how the shadows expanded, draping the earth with blackness, and Dipper feared they might reach out to him, to them, as if trying to grab, to hold. A shiver ran down his spine and he knew, just knew, that something was going terribly wrong right now.

His heart stuttered but he forced himself to open his mouth, to speak, nevertheless.

“What… Bill, what-?”

“We have to go,” Bill stated, voice like ice that would break any moment now, and it sank into Dipper’s very bones, freezing every vein and muscle. “Now.”

~

~

~


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

~ 

~

~

Dipper couldn’t even flinch when Bill fingers clenched around his wrist, the joint clicking, when he began to pull him towards the other side of the clearing. His heart was leaping to his throat, a fluttering bird trying to escape its cage. He should have wanted to run, should have wanted to flee. He could feel the panic surging through his mind, but it was strange. Strange that his legs didn’t want to move. Strange that he almost felt as if he were curling up beneath a blanket, a nice, soft blanket, a blanket that drowned out all those bothersome noises. A part of him was wondering why he didn’t stay. 

It would be easy, wouldn’t it?  

Bill yanked him to the side and Dipper’s forehead didn’t crash into the solid-looking branch in their way but only graced its edge. His stomach dropped and he shook his head with widened eyes. It hurt to force his feet to pick up their speed but he glimpsed at Bill’s face, firm as stone, pale and yet determined, and he knew he had to run.  

He didn’t dare ask for a reason because Bill wasn't looking as if he would give one, certainly not now, and maybe also because a part of him knew the reason and that part was clinging to the far back of his mind like a terrified mouse. He dodged another tree, breath already coming in shaky, stuttering gasps. It was really embarrassing how unathletic he was. It shouldn’t have been that hard to keep up with Bill and Dipper made a mental note to go to the gym if they survived this whole thing.

A glance to the side made him yelp, and he shouldn’t have done that because it only fuelled the fear rushing through his body in crashing waves. It wasn’t even late afternoon but looking at the shadows pooling beneath the tremendous crowns of frozen trees, one could think they had reached the early night hours already. Dipper was shuddering just looking at this shapeless blackness, those unquivering twigs and leaves that should have vibrated with life but were now still and solid and dead.  

He couldn’t even smell anything, not even the earth they were running on. It was as if something had sucked every piece of life and vibrance out of the nature leaving it dull and cold, a warning to approaching travellers not to roam these lands. Dipper wanted to laugh at the thought but panic made every sound wither in his throat. It was too late for a warning, wasn’t it?  

His skin was prickling. There was a terrible sensation making his flesh crawl, the sensation of moist, hot breath in his neck. It made him squirm. He craned his head and didn’t see anything but ominous darkness and yet he knew with a certainty that threatened to squeeze the oxygen out of his lungs that somebody – or _something_ – was following them.  

The question remained if it would be able to reach them. 

“We won’t make it,” Bill muttered next to him, a low chuckle escaping between husky breaths that made him appear just a bit unhinged. Dipper’s heart skipped a beat. “Damn, Pine Tree. We’re as good as dead.” 

He didn’t stop running, though, and maybe that was the only thing that kept Dipper running too, that and the tight grip around his wrist. 

“Don’t you dare say something like that,” Dipper ground out. It was a miracle his voice didn’t waver. 

Bill burst into laughter. “Ah, but it’s true! It’s- _wait_.” 

A tremor went through his body as he turned on his heel half dashing through and half leaping over the bushes on his left side. Dipper had no choice but to follow him. A few moments and a few more tears in his jeans later Dipper went stumbling when Bill came to an abrupt stop. He would have fallen to the ground if Bill hadn’t been holding onto his wrist and a part of him wanted to scream at him, wanted to yell at him to keep running. He didn’t _want_ to die, did he? 

Every thought vanished from his mind when coldness settled in his body. There was ice, pooling in his feet first, then wandering through his veins, upwards, like water of a frozen lake, defying gravity. He couldn’t move, let alone speak, and it was hard enough to keep breathing. 

A distant part of his mind noticed that Bill had led them to some kind of field, small, lilac flowers lifting their heads up to the terribly dark sky, and if he weren’t stuck in this situation, he might have admired their beauty. He noticed their smell, too, heavy and familiar even though he couldn’t quite name it, and it was the only scent in the air. It was as if someone had robbed the world of his colours except one that somehow had to fill in all the gaps. It didn’t want to work, felt wrong, and yet Bill wasn’t trembling anymore, colour and a small grin back in his face. 

When Dipper followed his gaze, he noticed that Bill was looking right into the blackness behind the bushes they had emerged from. And didn’t the blackness appear even more dense, appear to pulsate as if… alive? 

A shiver ran down his spine as a sense of déjà vu overran him, and he knew that darkness, had seen it before, hadn’t he? Not in person, no, but the photo in that damned book had been close enough. 

Perhaps it was only his memory playing tricks on him but when he squinted his eyes, the blackness seemed to change, seemed to quiver as if there was something moving in the shadows, and perhaps there was. There was. His breath got stuck somewhere in his throat as there was no mistaking now.  

The first thing he could make out were two eyes, bright yellow spots like torches in a cave. Dipper couldn’t look away, drawn in by a gaze that seemed to laugh the laughter of a king looking at the court of fools.  

For a short moment it might have been human after all, wearing a black, oddly expensive looking suit on unmistakably human limbs. But then Dipper noticed that what he had thought of as branches of a tree was a pair of arms, a _second_ one to the one covered by the sleeves of the jacket, and his stomach turned. 

 _Supernatural_ , he thought, pulse rushing in his ears, and then that _thing_ stepped closer and his heart stopped entirely. Now he knew why the book had called it _Goatman_. Because at the place where a human skull should have been was the head of a goat, horns and black fur glimmering despite the lack of light. 

It couldn’t smile, wasn’t able to, wasn’t human enough to do so, and yet Dipper couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was grinning at them when it opened its mouth showing several rows of sharp teeth. 

“Bill Cipher, my old friend.” Its voice was like the whisper of the wind, too quiet and yet booming through the woods because it was the only sound, wasn’t it? A shiver ran down Dipper’s spine. 

Only the nails digging into the skin of his arm made him aware of the odd choice of words, made him realise Bill was still standing next to him. _They know each other_ , shot through his mind and the ice in his veins seemed to get just a bit colder.  

“Tom,” Bill said.  

 _Tom Gana, that’s the name_ , floated through Dipper’s memory. He saw Mabel’s room in his mind, its horrible emptiness, the open window and the forest beyond it, the black hair of an animal, and, fuck, Bill had been right. And that meant Mabel… Mabel was… 

“Where’s my sister, you freak?!”, Dipper couldn’t help but yell, worry and anger making his blood boil. Also making him forget all reason apparently. 

Tom tilted his ugly head to look right into his eyes, yellow gaze without pupils like ponds of acid. How could he even see with those? A wave of nausea made Dipper choke, eyes stinging because he couldn’t blink, couldn’t avert his gaze. 

“And who are you?,” Tom murmured with the curiosity of a zoo visitor. “Bill, you’ve never told me you’re keeping pets.” 

What the fuck?! 

“My name’s Dipper Pines and I’m not his _pet_.” The thought alone made him want to throw up. “I’m not his, _full stop_ , asshat. I know you’ve got my sister and I want her back, healthy and alive. Why don’t you let her go and go and kill yourself?” 

Tom didn’t say anything for a long moment but Bill was chuckling. Dipper had to fight the urge to shoot him an angry glare or give him a jab against the ribs for that matter.  

“Ah, I see it now. The resemblance. You’re just as rude as her.” The laughter wasn’t quite laughter but rather the groaning of uprooted trees in a storm, a gleam flashing through his gaze like a candle in a dark room.  “You’ve got her tender-looking flesh too.”  

The flick of a tongue, eyes wide and bright and hungry. “I can hear your blood, Dipper Pines. The stream of ever-flowing red liquid that is keeping you alive as long as you don’t cut yourself. Or get cut. Isn’t red the most beautiful colour of them all?” 

Dipper couldn’t reply, tongue glued to the bottom of his mouth. He also didn’t have to. 

“I like your sister. Mabel, isn’t it? Though, her game does get annoying. I’ve never learned to be patient even though I’ve roamed these lands far longer than you can imagine. Waiting is such a strange concept to me, still. It’s such a waste of time.” A low sigh, that weird unnatural almost-smile.  

“I’ll think of you when I devour her body. That I can promise you. Perhaps you can join her in the near future?” 

Something snapped inside Dipper. “If you want to kill me so badly, why don’t you just do it right now?” 

“He can’t,” Bill said, grin audible in his voice. “I know you’ve always hated lavender, Tommy.” 

Tom froze, head melting into the shadows nudging at his skin, dancing around his limbs, almost as if trying to hide his expression. This trickling silence was even more tense than the one before. 

“You look different, Bill,” he whispered then, voice bordering on a hiss. “You _are_ different. You lost your powers. You lost… your memories.” 

“I sure hope I haven’t lost my sense of humour at least.” 

“I’ve never found you particularly funny, to be honest.” The shadows pulsated around Tom’s feet and it was almost as if they were trying to reach closer, black tendrils grazing the lilac flowers and crumbling together a second later. Dipper wouldn’t admit it but he had never been gladder to have Bill at his side.  

“However, I have to admit it is quite boring without you around. I could help you. Open that border in your mind that’s hindering you from remembering, from using your powers. You’d just have to step out of that field.” 

_Oh, dammit._

Dipper swallowed hard but couldn’t quite fight away the panic clawing its way into his heart. He had no doubt that a being who could melt into shadows and paralyse with its gaze, a friend of Bill Cipher, nonetheless, would be able to lift whatever spell Bill was under.  

He would be doomed. Hell, all of Gravity Falls, the whole world would be doomed. It wouldn’t matter if he knew where to find Mabel and how to save her because he would be dead in a heartbeat. If it wasn’t Tom who would kill him, then surely Bill. The cynical part of him wondered if it was better to be eaten alive or trapped in the mindscape and driven to insanity. Or whatever horrible thing Bill would do to him. 

Worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do, right? All those inquiries about his past left no doubt Bill would say yes. He would say yes and Dipper would die, easy as that. Wasn’t it ironic that Bill had saved him just to doom him now? Dipper couldn’t quite laugh about it, though. 

The silence went on as he waited for Bill to fucking say that one word, to loosen the grip around his wrist, to step away and leave him alone. Dipper didn’t dare to look at him and nothing happened and he almost believed that the wheels of time had stopped turning after all. _Why don’t you say anything?_ , he couldn’t help but wonder. _How much longer do you want to stay silent?_  

The question had to remain unanswered, though, because that was when Tom let out a low gasp, a stifled scream, yet loud enough to make Dipper flinch. The darkness rose, washed over them like the inky wave of a tsunami, and for a second he was drowning, for a second he was blind, unable to move, unable to breathe. 

“Think about my offer, Bill Cipher!”, rang through the air. The blackness faded with the notes of the words. It didn’t even take half a minute until Dipper could see the sky again, blue and cloudless, until he could feel the warmth of sun rays on his shoulders. 

The shiver running down his spine was cold still.  

A distant part of his mind noticed that Bill loosened his grip, the wrist throbbing and tingling from the rush of new blood. Dipper now knew what was terrorising the town, what was responsible for Mabel’s disappearance, but he couldn’t have been more unhappy about it. A part of him wished he hadn’t found out at all. 

“Well, that went better than I’d expected,” Bill said with a low chuckle.  

Dipper’s head jerked to the side to look at him. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he should say, and perhaps it was just that abundance of words itching in his throat that sealed his lips better than a lack thereof could have had. 

“I do think you should at least thank me, Pine Tree. A dead man can’t save his sister and I’m pretty sure you would have died without me.” There was a grin on his face, yellow eyes oddly sparkling, and Dipper couldn’t help but remember those _other_ pair of yellow eyes. 

But, no, thinking about it, they weren’t similar at all. Bill’s eyes were like petals of a sunflower while Tom’s screamed poison and demise. 

 _What am I even doing?_ , shot through Dipper’s mind and he had to resist the urge to rub the prickling skin of his neck. What a dumb topic to think about, especially now. 

“Eh, thanks for… saving my life, I guess,” Dipper muttered hesitantly. The way Bill was talking to him… what was he getting at?  

 _He already knows too much_ , Dipper realised with a churning stomach. He knew Tom had been part of his past life and it wasn’t hard to see the connection between a supernatural being and the possibility of having been one himself, especially after Tom’s offer to give him back his powers. If he had remembered parts of his old life, like the lavender thing, what else had he remembered _without_ telling Dipper? 

“Why that look, Pine Tree? I’m not waiting for the right opportunity to slit your throat and stuff your dead body with marshmallows, don’t worry.” 

“Why didn’t you take that deal, Bill?”  

Bill lifted a brow, an expression rushing over his face that was hard to name. “Maybe I don’t trust a guy that’s half domestic animal and half smug bastard.”  

His shrug drew creases into the sleeves of his trench coat. “Or maybe I’ve already taken it without letting you know and this is all part of my great evil scheme. Who knows?” 

His voice sounded playful enough but when he turned around to meet Dipper’s gaze, his eyes were slightly narrowed, lips curled to a smirk that couldn’t have been less happy. “You told me you knew me in my past life, didn’t you? You didn’t tell me anything about the circumstances of our meeting, though. You do your best to avoid telling me anything. Ah, don’t try to deny it, Pine Tree!” 

He shook his head right when Dipper opened his mouth to do just that. He clenched his jaw reluctantly.  

“After everything you’ve done, everything you’ve told and haven’t told me…” Bill snorted, rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I was the bad guy of your story. Maybe I should try to be more evil? Steal the little girl’s lollipop? Sneak cheap candy and a coke into the cinema? What do you say, Pine Tree?” 

Dipper blinked once, twice, slowly as if it could buy him some time. Only then did he raise his voice. 

“I don’t trust you,” he admitted. “But… I’m willing to ignore the past if you help me find Mabel.”  

Was there any other option? At least he knew she was alive… for now. 

Bill’s smile widened ever so slightly before he began to pull out some of the lavender flowers around them.  

“Perhaps you should start wearing a flower crown, Pine Tree. I bet it wouldn’t look half-bad too,” he said. “And it might just save your life. I daresay Tom hates you even more than me and, well, you can’t talk to Wendy if you’re dead, eh?” 

~ 

Of course the police were long gone when they returned to the street they had come from. Though, perhaps it really was better to catch Wendy at her home rather than to disturb an investigation. Dipper still had to sort out his thoughts anyway after the last hours had shaken the situation up like an earthquake. 

“Hey, Bill, what do you think made Tom disappear so suddenly?”, he murmured while driving, hands oddly steady around the steering wheel. It was something that had boggled his mind ever since he had seen the sun again and he couldn’t find an appropriate answer. The sky was darker now, the few clouds rose-tinted, a sign of the approaching night. “He could have waited. We couldn’t have stayed in that field forever.” 

“You’ve heard him. He hates waiting,” Bill said in a voice that didn’t quite make clear if he was serious or not. “Or something happened that he didn’t expect, dunno. Isn’t that important, is it?” 

Dipper frowned. “ _Everything_ concerning him could be important. Fuck, he wants to eat Mabel! We don’t even know why he hasn’t done it yet, and she… I can’t imagine what she must be going through…” 

He swallowed down the lump threatening to block his throat, blinking hastily. “We have to hurry.” 

It didn’t take them long to reach Wendy’s house, to park at the street, and a few moments later he was looking at the front door for the second time that day. This time he could see the lights flickering behind blue curtains, though. This time he did knock, even though his heart was fluttering in his chest. 

“If she asks… you’re my colleague William, okay?”, Dipper whispered to Bill as an afterthought, hoping that Wendy would be too tired to connect the dots, praying Bill wouldn’t say or do anything that would rekindle her memories. He had been lucky that Candy hadn’t noticed anything but Wendy… she had been closer to them, closer to the supernatural. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to lie into her face.  

Well, after what had happened the last time he had been in Gravity Falls, it wouldn’t surprise him if she shut the door right after seeing him standing on the thresholds. 

 _You’ve never really cared for Gravity Falls, for_ them _, have you?! You weren’t there when they needed you and now it’s too late. Your goddamn studies were more important than family! I can’t believe I used to like you…_

Dipper winced at the memory resisting the urge to turn around and lock himself into the car. He had been such a dumb idiot back then.  

When the door opened, his breath got stuck in his throat, a part of him hoping he hadn’t made a mistake by coming here. He couldn’t back off now, though. 

Wendy didn’t look too different from the last time he had seen her. Her red hair was a bit wavier and shorter, now barely grazing her shoulders, he hadn’t seen that navy blue shirt she was wearing before and the shadows beneath her eyes were much more prominent. But who could blame her when she had to deal with all those murders at work? 

However, he also didn’t have much time looking at her because she shut the door after a few moments of staring at him out of widened eyes. 

Bill chuckled lightly and he might have said something, making fun of Dipper probably, if the door hadn’t opened again mere seconds afterwards. 

“Come in,” she growled more than she said, turning around without a second glance. “And don’t forget to close the door behind you.” 

Dipper, hesitating, threw a short glance to Bill but Bill only raised a corner of his mouth to a half smile, a brow lifted as if saying _you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Now go in_. Dipper rolled his eyes. _What did I expect from him anyway?_   

Taking a deep breath, he crossed the threshold and pulled the door shut after Bill had followed him. 

“I hope you know I don’t have time for you,” Wendy said turning around to face him with crossed arms. It was only then that Dipper noticed the pile of documents and photos on the dining table. A half-full cup of coffee was standing next to a small notebook, the visible page full of scribbled words that made it appear more black than white.  

“Why don’t you go to Mabel and-“ The words she had wanted to say trickled away as her gaze fell on Bill and Dipper couldn’t help but tense up. Her eyes narrowed, the green like a sunlit meadow beneath the ceiling lamp before a shadow ran through them. 

“Eh.” Dipper cleared his throat, trying not to squirm beneath her gaze. “I’d like to introduce… William to you. A friend from work.” He felt foolish just saying those things but he could hardly tell the truth, could he? 

Out of the corners of his eyes he could see Bill grin. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

Wendy pursed her lips as she made a few steps forward, probably to get a better look. Dipper just wished she would stop scanning Bill as if he were part of a crime scene.  

“Friend from work, eh?”, Wendy muttered. She probably would have added something if an ear piercing bang hadn’t rung through the room as the front door shot open. 

The wind blew in from the outside, settling as a cold chill on Dipper’s skin and making the hair in his neck stand up. His heart skipped a beat. He had hardly time to wonder if Wendy was expecting any guests before his gaze rushed to the source of the sound. To the person who had slipped into the hallway and was now pressing their back against the closed door, chest heaving with hasty breaths as if they had only now returned from a marathon. 

“Mabel?!” 

~ 

~

~


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not as long as my usual chapters but I feel like it's for the best, considering the content of the next one :) I hope you enyoy

**Chapter 11**

~ 

~

~

Mabel. 

His lost sister, the successful fashion designer in need of rescue. Not so lost after all, it seemed. Or in need of rescue. 

Time was slowing down, or it certainly felt like that because Dipper was able to think _. I kept up with Bill’s dumb comments for no reason_ , he thought _. I could have stayed away from Gravity Falls. Mabel’s doing fine without me. Just fine. Totally fine. Fine._

Tears drew lines into the room, pulling colours and shapes, twisting them into an unrecognisable mess until he might as well have been blind.  

He could see Mabel, still, her flat, wet hair clinging to the skull like sea weeds. Her red eyes, pupils dilated to swallow her emotions, and yet brimming over with them.  

He could hear the shuddering breaths, loud, still loud, still as audible as his own booming heartbeat. 

“Mabel,” Dipper whispered, unable to move. He doubted anyone was listening to him. It didn’t matter anyway. 

“Dipper!”, a blessedly familiar voice screamed, tainted by exhaustion. “You’re here! You’re back! You’re _here_...” 

Dipper could barely see but he would always recognise those arms crushing his chest in a hug, even in their scarily thin state. _You’ve lost a few pounds, haven’t you?_ , ran through Dipper’s mind, worry making his heart ache and drowning out that silver of irony that reminded him of all those times Mabel had complained about her weight. It was so much easier to focus on such simple, non-important details than on the chaos that would ensue soon enough. 

He would have loved to stop time then, just a minute please, a minute of breathing, a minute of calming down and not panicking for once. Just one minute would have been nice. 

He didn’t even get two seconds. 

“There’s so much I have to tell you, so much, so much we have to do, I don’t know what you already know, what Wendy’s told you, what has happened while I’ve been... I’ve...” Mabel’s voice broke with a sob that sent an icy tremor through his flesh. His stomach dropped, knowledge he didn’t want to have waiting at the crossroad to his future, but he had to hear what she had to say. Rather sooner than later. 

 _I’m sorry_ , his mind murmured. _So damn sorry_. Dipper managed to blink his own tears away, giving his sister’s body, clad in dripping, dirty clothes, a last squeeze, then pulling away. 

He took a deep breath, a hand resting on Mabel’s shoulder that should have been supporting even though he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was only helping himself keep standing. 

“I know about the murders. I know about Tom Gana, the Goatman. I found the book, you-“ 

A hand closed around his arm, surprisingly strong for someone oozing that much fatigue. Dipper forgot to breathe as Mabel yanked him to her side, and he stumbled until his back hit the wooden door with a sad and painful thud. The words got lost halfway between his attempt at straightening himself and the sound of Mabel’s booming voice. 

“You!”  

Dipper’s world stopped buzzing and his gaze found Mabel, or rather the back of her dark jacket, once maybe aquamarine blue. He didn’t have to see her face to know who she was facing, who she was looking at, though. The biting venom in that one word told him enough. “Wendy, keep away.”  

Dipper’s blood froze, mouth dry and filled with bile. Bill’s eyes were twinkling, grin remarkably steady for someone that must be facing an extraordinarily murderous glare. 

Even in her tired state, there was no way Mabel could have missed it, the glaringly red neon sign in the room screaming _dream demon_ , screaming a particular name, was there? 

“You might look human, but I know you’re not, Bill Cipher.”  

Dipper winced.  

“I let you know I’m not that silly girl from back then anymore, and I warn you, if you’re not disappearing back to wherever the earth had spit you out from, you’re gonna regret to have ever laid eyes on Gravity Falls again. We’ve destroyed you before and we can do it again and it’ll be very painful. Right, Dipper!?” 

Dipper cleared his throat, the sound embarrassingly loud.  

Bill was grinning, wasn’t he? He had to be looking at Mabel but the part of Dipper that wasn’t drowning in panic couldn’t help but think that his gaze was just barely flickering to the side, grazing him with its oddly familiar laughing spark.  

Wendy was looking at him too now, her furious expression burning through his body in a way that made him scared of bursting into flames right then and there. His brain grew hot and sticky, the kind of heat that could melt asphalt and his rationality right with it.

What could he do? What could he say, with his mind as empty as it was? _Dammit_. 

“Right, Dipper?” It sounded much more like a question now. 

“I knew something wasn’t right when you two walked in,” Wendy growled, looking every bit the tough girl growing up with several brothers that she was. Dipper could see her hands clench into fists out of the corners of his eyes. 

“Friend from work, ha!” She shook her head, snorting without even a hint of happiness, then also turning to Bill. “What have you done to him, huh? You better tell us right now.” 

“What I’ve done to Pine Tree? Let me think about that for a second.” Bill pursed his lips, holding out fingers as if counting up. “I bought him lunch. I helped him search for his dear sister. I saved his life. That enough for you?” 

Dipper couldn’t stand by anymore, as easy, as attractive as that option seemed. It would only get worse if he didn’t do anything and, moreover, it wasn’t helping them in the slightest.

“He’s right!”, he yelled before shame could silence him. A single drop of sweat trickled down his forehead, making his skin itch in a way that was barely tolerable. “And I’m _not_ brainwashed, Wendy-“ 

“Just what a brainwashed man would say-“ 

“I’m not,” Dipper snapped, rubbing his temple. “Okay? I tried to lie to you because I didn’t want this, this chaos, this tension, this...” A shaky breath. “Well, I’m sorry... I know it’s Bill. Of course I know! How could I not?”  

Three pairs of eyes were clinging to him as if waiting for him to mess up, but for once he didn’t care, for once he only focused on the words that seemed to pour from his tongue like rain from the sky. There was relief somewhere inside him. 

“Before you start screaming at me, or at him for that matter, you need to know… he doesn’t just... look human. He _is_ human.” _For now at least_ , a murmuring voice inside him argued. “He lost his powers and memories.”  

The words prickled in his mouth, reminding him of a time not too long ago when similar words had been spoken, when a deal had been offered. He wisely kept that part to himself. 

“You’re... you’re kidding, right?”, Wendy murmured even though she didn’t sound too convinced herself. Her gaze jumped between him and Bill every two seconds as if she couldn’t decide who to keep an eye on. 

“Nice try, Pine Tree,” Bill said, stretching his arms and yawning slightly as if this day couldn’t have been more normal, perhaps a bit tiring. “They won’t believe me. They won’t even believe you. I can see it in their eyes. Thanks for the effort, I guess.” 

“Don’t talk to my brother as if you know him. Y-you _don’t_ ,” Mabel ground out, a clearly visible shiver running through her body. Dipper couldn’t be certain but something in her voice made his heart clench, the weakness of it, the shivering notes that made it float in the air like a half-hearted echo. It screamed at him to lead her to the nearest bed and make her lie down. 

“We don’t want you here... human o-or not,” she added. “L-leave and... never bother us again. You-ah...” 

There was another shiver, stronger now, taking control of her limbs as if she wasn’t in a well-heated room but a raging blizzard. At the borders of his vision, Dipper could see her eyes fall shut, then her lips, white, almost bluish, trembling, and then he couldn’t think anymore. Could only move, leap to Mabel to keep her from collapsing on the floor, hands reaching for her shoulders. 

He might have called her name again. He might have seen her fingers twitch in response too. Her eyes stayed close, though, body shivering but horribly still, horribly cold. 

“Mabel? Mabel? Talk to me!” The coldness crept through his fingers now, an invisible line between him and Mabel, a flow that ran through his own veins soon enough and devoured every piece of him on its way. He shuddered, eyes wide and watery.  

“Dip...per...” Mabel’s mouth was barely moving, eyebrows contracting, a groan, quiet, so very quiet. 

“The sofa,” Wendy said and Dipper couldn’t have been more thankful. Her voice made him snap out of his stupor, grip around Mabel’s shoulders tightening. They didn’t have to share any more words. Wendy grabbed her legs, they lifted her up.

A few minutes and a few more steps later, Mabel was lying on the green cushions of the sofa, her shivering, small body almost entirely hidden by a patterned, self-made-looking blanket. 

Dipper sat down next to her, on a wooden chair that should have been uncomfortable but was barely noticeable now. He took her hand, wincing at the coldness of it, but not letting go. 

Mabel sighed again, chest rising with deeper breaths now, and wasn’t there a touch of pink on her cheeks? 

Dipper rubbed his eyes with the other hand, trying to suppress its tremble. He wanted to cry and he didn’t even know why. His heart pounded in agonisingly slow beats. Mabel was back but that did not solve their problems, problems he was only beginning to realise they had. A stupid, naive part of him had thought everything would be back to normal as soon as he could hug his sister again, but of course, that couldn’t be farther from true. 

People were dying. A dark being was bringing terror upon Gravity Falls, _again_ , and Dipper felt a pull that wouldn’t let him leave again. _Mabel_ wouldn’t leave and he… he had to help, even if he didn’t know how, even if he didn’t want to risk his sister’s life, even if he felt more like a dumb pre-teen by the minute.  

And there was Bill... 

Dipper bit back a sigh that might have come out as a sob. 

How could you be an adult and feel so damn helpless and overwhelmed at the same time? He was supposed to have his life together, supposed to be strong, back straightened and eyes sharp. He wasn’t supposed to stumble around with blindfolded eyes.

Mabel couldn’t have watched him, could have read his thoughts even less, but Dipper felt her hand squeezing his nevertheless, a short but gentle squeeze, and for a moment that was enough.

“I think you have some explaining to do, _Dipper Pines_ ,” Wendy said, voice just quiet enough not to wake Mabel while still letting her anger shine through.

Dipper didn’t want to leave his sister, didn’t want to even raise his eyes, but he could hardly blame Wendy for her inquiry. He closed his eyes, gathering the tendrils of energy still residing in his body with a conscious effort and hoping they would be enough. Then, and only then, did he tear his gaze away from his sister and rose to face Wendy.

Except that she didn’t face him.

Wendy was staring at Bill out of blazing eyes, unblinking, as if she thought he would disappear and wreak havoc as soon as she let him out of her sight for even just a heartbeat. Her lips formed a thin line and a frown was sealed in her face, such a glaringly different image to the laid-back girl he remembered.

Bill wasn’t relaxed either, Dipper noticed. He did grin, for sure, but it was rather a smirk, and his gaze was unwavering as well, tense, something hidden in its depths. Dipper couldn’t help but shiver, couldn’t help but wonder if he had seen that look on Bill before and, in the end, couldn’t answer that question.

“Well…,” Dipper began and that one word changed the atmosphere of the room in a way not unsimilar to the way water evaporates when you pour it on a heated stove plate.

Wendy’s jaw twitched but Bill was the first to look away, eyes focusing on Dipper as casually as if this situation was hardly something out of the ordinary. A warmth returned to his expression that hadn’t been there mere moments ago, that hadn’t been there when he had been looking at Wendy, and Dipper wasn’t sure what to made of it.

“Alright. I can explain it. I will,” he muttered, trying to talk over the sudden sensation of sun rays warming his skin that couldn’t possibly be real. He licked his lips, took a deep breath, and began to tell what had happened, starting from that awful last day at work. It seemed years ago.

Of course, he didn’t tell everything. He let out the part of him deceiving a poor old lady and didn’t even mention that damn room in Candy’s hotel or any of the more dubious parts of the things Bill had said and done, Tom’s offer included. He did, however, confirm what Bill had said, if only begrudgingly.

Wendy was listening to him with a seriousness that was almost scary to witness, a seriousness that made him feel as if perhaps he was taking things with Bill too lightly, as if perhaps there was more separating Wendy and him than mere age alone. A part of him began to realise something he had realised quite some time ago but had tried to ignore now that he was here again, the fact that Gravity Falls could be dangerous, especially to the people who lived in it. And Wendy’s job forced her to deal with the least pleasant aspects of it.

“So that being… Tom, he’s responsible for the deaths,” Wendy muttered and Dipper nodded although she wasn’t even looking at him, eyes glazed and nose crinkled in thought. “And he abducted Mabel… out of her hotel room…”

She froze, pupils widening as if trying to devour the white of her eyes, and Dipper felt his stomach plummet. “What if he’s coming for us here? What can we do? We’re not safe here. We’re _nowhere_ safe!”

Dizziness took hold of Dipper, its grip strong and suffocating, and for a few sickening breaths he couldn’t help but think _damn, she’s right. We’re fucked_. They didn’t know why Tom had disappeared so suddenly. They didn’t know what made him _appear_ for god’s sake! They just knew he could appear out of the shadows and they knew all they could do then was run. Run and hide like deer from the hunter.

Dipper took a breath that didn’t want to stay in his lungs. “He… had enough time to try it by now. Surely he wouldn’t…” …amuse himself by relishing their uncertainty and Panic and then surprise them by striking like a horseman of the apocalypse? _Damn_.

“He won’t be coming here, don’t worry,” Bill said, smiling. “He could enter the hotel because it doesn’t quite count as property, I guess, but normally he has to be invited in by the house owner. In this case you, Ruby.”

“It’s _Wendy_ , jerk,” Wendy hissed, teeth grinding in a way that you could barely make out any words at all. Her gaze flickered to the closet at the end of the room and Dipper wondered if she was keeping any spare weapons in there. Her expression certainly told him so. “And how do you know _that_? I thought you had amnesia?”

“Well, I just know it.” Bill shrugged. “Just as I knew Tom doesn’t like lavender. You should be glad I share this knowledge with you.”

“ _I-_!” Wendy bit her tongue, wrenching her head away so as not to be forced to look at him but at Dipper instead. “Too many people have died… we need to get rid of that monster. And as much as it hurts me to say it, I’m not thinking of your new ex-demon bestie here. Follow me, you two.”

Dipper threw a last look at Mabel seemingly sleeping peacefully, before walking through the door Wendy had pointed to. He hoped they wouldn’t be gone too long but a part of him, as crazy as that seemed, trusted Bill, trusted that he had told them the truth, trusted that they were safe. For now.

Or maybe he just wanted it to be the truth.

“I had a long day, and I think you’re tired too, so I suggest we call it a day and discuss things with Mabel tomorrow?” Wendy turned around, standing just in front of a wooden night shelf next to a plain-looking bed with white sheets and pillow. A guest room, it seemed.

Dipper frowned, gaze fixed on what was undoubtedly just one bed for one person. _Not that shit again_ , he thought, then shaking his head slightly. She wouldn’t do that, right?

“It’s just one bed,” he said after a few slow seconds, feeling dumb by stating the obvious.

“Oh? Yeah. Bill,” she smiled, walked over to where Bill was frowning as well, standing close to the wall, and Dipper felt as if he had got a glimpse into an alternative universe. How crazy.

There was a soft metallic click when Wendy let the handcuffs fall shut around Bill’s left wrist. There was a much louder _thump_ when Bill lost his footing and a cry as his back hit the floor when Wendy yanked him down to connect him to a pipe running along the wall.

“ _Hey_!”

“I don’t trust you. I hope you don’t mind sleeping here because that’s as much bed as you’ll get this night.”

~ 

~

~


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm really surprised by how many subscribtions this story has, thank you very much! I hope you still enjoy my writing :))

**Chapter 12**

~ 

~

~

Dipper couldn’t sleep.

He had pulled the mattress out of the guest room to stuff It next to the sofa Mabel was snoring and sometimes shivering on. He needed her breathing, the incomprehensible mumbling that came with confusing, soon to be forgotten dreams because they meant she was here, she was alive, and as well as the circumstances allowed.

That couldn’t be the reason for the itch of his mind, the tingling of muscles yearning to toss and turn. That couldn’t be the reason for eyelids that just didn’t want to stay closed.

There were Wendy’s words, whispered to him after they had closed the door to a sulking Bill chained to a pipe, whispered to him in an attempt not to let anyone else hear them.

“ _Mabel hasn’t told me much. She wanted to be certain at first, wanted to talk to you, I think, even though she never said it out loud_.” There had been a shadow hanging over Wendy’s eyes then, hesitation in the motion of her lips. There had been the shaky breathing of a woman who wasn’t quite sure if she should continue. _“She mentioned…_ them _. She… I don’t think she believes in an accident anymore.”_

Dipper hadn’t been able to answer, had only been able to gulp down a rush of panic that had tried to settle in his gut. It had been a long time but not enough. Not enough time by a long shot. It had been hard enough to accept it, back then, hard enough to fight with Wendy about it, but this. The idea that it hadn’t been an accident, that it might have been the very same monster that was lurking in the shadows as they spoke – because nothing else was Wendy suggesting, nothing else was the evidence suggesting – was simply terrifying.

How had Mabel come to change her view on their deaths? What had made her return to Gravity Falls? And, even more important, what would she be telling him, tomorrow?

Those tormenting questions were enough to keep him awake. And something else, too.

 _“I hope you know what you’re doing,”_ Wendy had said before leaving to sleep in her own room, eyes observing a certain closed door. _“I hope you know we can’t trust him, that you should be very, very careful. I don’t believe he’s what you want him to be. He might be helpful now but he’s turned on us in the past, you know that. He’s a liar, and crazy, and no amount of human blood in his veins will change that, I’m sure of it. Dipper. Do. Not. Trust. Him.”_

Those words might have been even scarier than the ones before them.

 _I know that, Wendy. No need to lecture me_ , Dipper thought, frowning. And yet, it became harder and harder to conjure that memory of evil triangle Bill up in his brain.

 _I saved his life_ , Bill had said. He had been right. Without him, Dipper would have faced death in the form of a half-animal demon with teeth sharper than a kitchen knife. Without him, he would have been lost in despair and panic and worry about his sister. Without him, he might not even have had the courage to go to Gravity Falls again, to seek out Wendy and the Sheriff.

His brain refused to view him as evil, as much as he was trying to remind himself of the past. A past that seemed so far, dressed in mist and barely real. Sometime between their arrival in Gravity Falls and now, Dipper’s thoughts and feelings had changed.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to pry into what they had become.

But maybe some part of him did want to know after all because when he shook his head to free his mind, eyes widening and looking into the slumbering darkness of the living room, he found himself staring at the door of the guest room.

He sighed. _Damn it._

The door opened surprisingly silently, barely a creaking of wood audible.

There was no light in the room as the small window didn’t face the moon and the blackness swallowed him up as soon as he stepped into it, pulling the door shut behind himself. It took his eyes a minute or two to get used to it, heart beating out of his chest.

It wasn’t one of his best ideas. It wasn’t even one of his good ones. But sometimes you had to follow your instincts, the spark inside your body that told you to go, to go and try to catch that feeling you didn’t dare to name and yet wanted to find so badly. Sometime the bad ideas were just good ideas in disguise.

At first Dipper had thought Bill was fast asleep as no comment had disturbed the silence even though Dipper must have been clearly recognisable in the frame of the door, even though there had been enough time for Bill to look up and think and say something. That was why it did come as a surprise when he heard his voice, not loud, but not quiet either.

“I really don’t think it’s fair to chain me up just like that. I haven’t done anything to harm her, but _she_ …! She’s the reason the back of my head might be curved in now. Crazy redhead.”

Dipper blinked, tongue flicking over his lips as his eyes were adjusting to the light.

Bill was looking up at him, back pressed against the wall, one leg sprawled out, the other one bent, uncuffed hand lying loosely on his knee. Still clad into his trench coat, he should have been sweating but, curiously, wasn’t by the look of it.

It wasn’t possible that his eyes were glowing by themselves, yellow rings like sun rays, and as Bill tilted his head, blinking a few times, the illusion faded until Dipper was sure it had been just that, an illusion. A false picture his mind had created.

“You’ve heard Wendy,” Dipper murmured. “She doesn’t trust you.”

A grin appeared on Bill’s face. “And you? Do you trust me, Pine Tree?”

Dipper felt his breath hitch and his face might have changed its colour a bit. “No!”

Too loud, suspiciously loud. He closed his mouth until the words escaping couldn’t be louder than a whisper. “I’ve already told you I don’t trust you.”

Bill’s grin didn’t falter and Dipper felt an icy shiver that made him think his head had turned to glass to offer his thoughts and feelings to anyone willing to look into them.

“Why are you here then? Why wasting time being here if you’re not willing to uncuff me?” His expression changed into a more desperate, lips pursed as he straightened his back, moving just a bit closer into Dipper’s direction. “It really is damn uncomfortable, Pine Tree. _Please_. I won’t even tell Red, I promise.”

Dipper couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything and Bill gave a low sigh, eyes narrowing. “At least don’t tower over me like that if you wanna talk.”

Dipper took a deep breath, ignoring the dryness of his throat.

“I guess… I can do that,” he muttered, letting himself fall down to sit on the floor barely a metre away from Bill. His left hand reached up to rub his face, trying in vain to get rid of a tingling that seemed just out of reach, dancing beneath his skin.

The lines of Bill’s face were more prominent now. Perhaps it was only because his eyes had got used to the lack of light, but somehow his jaw hadn’t seemed that sharp until now, the hair well-cut and emphasizing his facial features in just the right way. Those eyes. He hadn’t been that attractive in the beginning, right?

But no, he _wasn’t_ attractive, not really, no. _No_.

Grabbed by the powerful urge to say something and struggling not to squirm beneath Bill’s gaze, Dipper spluttered out the first non-Gravity-Falls-related thing that came to his mind.

“Hey, eh, I wondered… why exactly do you hate your parents?”

There was a beat of silence, something lost wandering through Bill’s gaze, a lonely star dying away, shedding its last sparks, and Dipper knew with a certainty that he hadn’t expected this question at all. And neither had Dipper himself, if he was honest.

Bill’s expression soured as if he had bit into an especially unripe lemon. He opened his mouth, white teeth shimmering through, looking ready to snarl or sneer, but it didn’t happen. The tip of his tongue was just hovering between his lips, body tense, eyes unblinking and hard.

 _I shouldn’t have asked_ , Dipper thought, unable to actually speak. He had to resist the urge to back off, stand up and leave the room, but even stronger was the odd temptation to stay.

The tension fled Bill’s body in the rush of a waterfall, but the warmth vanished as well, leaving hard lines and dull colours and a seriousness Dipper hadn’t expected from him.

“Could you love anyone that hates you? That used every opportunity to make sure you won’t forget you can’t be loved? Because you’re a freak, an abnormality… different than the other boys and girls with those scary hallucinations and weird dreams and odd behaviour. You can’t be their son because you’re not the perfectly healthy, perfectly normal child they wanted to have. That they _deserved_.”

There was a low hiss when Bill let the breath out of his lungs, shaking his head ever so slowly. “ _They_ didn’t want me but Lizzy did, so I left and never looked back.”

A smirk spread over his lips, a smirk more fitting for a crime scene, and Dipper couldn’t help but shiver. “And that’s why I hate them, Pine Tree.”

The smirk got lost soon after the last syllable had faded away, the tension making the air buzz dissolving like syrup. Dipper’s chest felt as heavy as if he were lying at the bottom of the ocean, his heartbeat sluggish and quiet in its slow rhythm.

His left hand twitched, moving just a few centimetres into Bill’s direction.

“You’ve made me think of them way too often, Pine Tree,” Bill muttered, eyebrows contracting as he looked at him from under his half closed eyelids. He sighed, no real power in his voice. “It gets tiring. Don’t do it again.”

“I’m sorry,” Dipper said. Then, after a heartbeat. “Nobody should feel like that.”

 _Not even you, not even after everything you’ve tried to do, and everything you have done_.

But it hadn’t even been him as he was now, right? It hadn’t been a human with a human life and human experiences. Maybe…

“Everyone deserves love… a-and I’m sure the right one’s out there, you just mustn’t give up.”

Dipper didn’t like the way his cheeks were burning, stomach churning out of a feeling somewhere between embarrassment and excitement. It felt too much like… like…

“You think so?” Bill tilted his head, sparkling eyes drawing Dipper in like the smell of blossomed trees. “Even for me? A former… demon? After whatever I’ve done in the past?”

“I…” The words got stuck in Dipper’s throat, Wendy’s voice ringing through his ears almost as loud as his heartbeat. He pushed it away, just off the cliff of his mind to let it tumble into oblivion until there was blissful silence, silence necessary for what he was about to do next.

He closed his eyes, closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Bill’s. Some part of his brain noticed warmth, gentle curves that just asked for following them with the tip of your tongue, a quiet gasp, almost mistaken for a sigh, and then Dipper felt as if someone was pouring a bucket of icy water over his head.

He didn’t let Bill react, didn’t want to let himself react and think about what he had done. He came to a stand as quickly as his wobbly legs allowed and shot a glare at Bill despite not really seeing him.

“Forget that,” Dipper ground out, voice too low, that bitter kind of anger spilling through his veins that was directed only at himself.

And he fled the room.

~

Dipper didn’t sleep that night.

At least that was why he didn’t have to drag himself out of some kind of dizzy dream when he felt a foot nudging his side and his sister’s voice filled the room.

“Wake up, Bro-Bro.”

His eyes shot open, heart taking a leap to his throat. His body, moving too many muscles at the same time, wobbly lurched forward and he ended up awkwardly kneeling on the mattress, left hand holding onto the sofa.

Mabel wasn’t lying on her back anymore, instead sitting upright with a lot more colour in her face than the evening before. Her hair was a mess of dry knots and curls, a tiny yellow leaf hiding behind her ear that Dipper hadn’t noticed before. Her white blouse wasn’t white anymore, carrying dark stains and more than a few loose threads. Nevertheless, she couldn’t look much worse than Dipper himself did, especially after last night and the dark circles it must have left beneath his eyes.

She didn’t look that tired anymore, the fatigue replaced with determination as her gaze ran around the room.

“Where is Bill? What did I miss? Why didn’t you wake me earlier? Wh-“

“Mabel!” Dipper felt a pounding at the back of his head, gritting his teeth. It took a ridiculous lot of effort to reach through the fog of sleep deprivation and come up with coherent sentences. “Give me a second… or maybe a minute, I’m not that young anymore…”

Mabel stopped looking around and instead focused on him, eyes growing wide as she pursed her lips. “We’re the same age, Dipper.”

“Well… the _Vogue_ made you 28,” Dipper said, a small smile on his face. “And the last time I checked I was 33.”

Mabel turned bright red. Though, Dipper wasn’t sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment. Maybe a bit of both.

“That w-was…” She shook her head, frowning. “Not important. Now, what happened while I was out?”

Dipper swallowed but didn’t manage to get rid of the lump in his throat. “Eh, yeah… I… well, we… were a bit scared when you fainted but as you seem better now… you are better, aren’t you?”

Mabel didn’t look as if she had expected that question. The tension left her body and for a few moments she really did look a lot younger than she was. Then she cracked a smile.

“I’m fine. It takes a lot more than some dumb demon to knock me down… but perhaps I was a bit scared as well, you know…” She shrugged half-heartedly. “Just a little bit. Not now, though. We’re together again. The Mystery Twins, hm?”

Not being able to speak, Dipper could only nod. He took a deep breath, then another one that transformed into a sigh.

“We really need to kill him, right? Tom Gana. The Goatman.”

Every hint of playfulness disappeared from Mabel’s face until her lips were a tight line and her eyes as dark as the earth after a night’s rain, a few tears glimmering in them.

“People will die. So many people already have died. Stan and Ford… Wendy had been right. They didn’t die in an accident. After everything I’ve read and heard, I’m pretty sure they died because of him, because of that _monster_.” Dipper hadn’t noticed when her hands had turned to fists, when her body had begun to shake with wrath. “Dipper, I was in Spain a few weeks ago-”

“I know, you’ve sent me a postcard,” he couldn’t help but interject. He could remember that awful day all too well. That day that hadn’t only begun with him being fired but had ended with a rush of panic at the idea of losing his sister without being able to help her.

Mabel shot him a look that promised sweet suffering if he dared to interrupt her again and Dipper gulped.

“I met Soos there and we talked about some things and, well, I’m not sure why we even approached the topic but there we were, reminiscing about the Mystery Shack and Gravity Falls… and then suddenly Soos gets this sad puppy eyes, _Horrible what’s happening there, just horrible_ , he says and, of course, I ask what’s happening.”

She turns her head slightly, her eyes getting a glazy look that made Dipper suspecting that she wasn’t seeing him anymore but another man. A friend from a past life.

“He tells me about the deaths. _Almost like back then_ , he adds, laughing. Stops laughing. _Now, that I’m thinking about it, it actually stopped when Stan and Ford died. Weird, huh?_ ” Mabel sighed, took a long breath as if to keep herself from losing her composure.

“You know Soos. He’s… well, l admit I wasn’t exactly nice to him when I realised he kept that detail to himself. Even more so when he went on to tell me of that thing Stan and Ford were working on… that ritual… to stop some shadowy supernatural being. I was angry, Dipper. So angry I couldn’t think straight. I… couldn’t call you, not without being sure. You understand that, don’t you?”

Dipper looked at her as the words rotated in his mind, shrieking and yelling. Everything made sense. Why Mabel had returned, the demon book, that mysterious _S_ in the notes of the page with the Goatman.

“There was a book in your room, _The Craft of Summoning a Demon_ ,” Dipper murmured, growing louder with every word without realising it.

“There was a list inside it. At first I thought it was just a grocery list but it isn’t, at least not your usual one. And the writing… I thought I knew the person who wrote it… and I do! It’s Ford, isn’t it? Those things… they’re ingredients for the ritual they used to banish Tom. And they died because of it.”

The grin that had formed on his lips out of excitement crumbled together. He looked at Mabel and could see the truth of his words in the lines of her face, could see the same grief lingering deep down in the depths of her eyes.

And then it didn’t make sense anymore.

“But they… they wouldn’t sacrifice themselves just like that. I refuse to believe they would. Not without telling us, not without some sort of goodbye.”

“I thought so too,” Mabel mumbled. “Maybe it was an accident after all, perhaps they forgot something… or Tom was too powerful.”

Dipper was standing now, restless legs almost giving in to the urge to circle the room. He shook his head.

“No. Or, yes, but I’m sure they thought everything would go well… they must have been confident, they must have believed into the ritual… they wouldn’t just half-ass things either. Not Stan, and Ford even less after everything he’s been through. Tom’s back again, good as new, right? They wouldn’t have wanted that. They would have wanted to kill him. Kill, not just banish. They must have thought the ritual would do the job but it didn’t. It didn’t.”

Mabel nodded. “Something’s missing…”

“… and we need to find out what it is, so we can kill that goat for real,” Dipper agreed with a small grin, energy surging through him.

“I hope you’re counting me in,” Wendy said.

Dipper’s heart skipped a beat, and Mabel’s as well by the look of it. Both their heads shot around to face Wendy as she stepped farther into the room, strands of red hair dancing around her chin.

“I didn’t notice you,” Dipper burst out, eyes wide.

Wendy smirked. “Well, I’m here and listening since Soos’s puppy eyes, so you had more than enough time to notice me. I thought I pick out some new clothes for you, Mabel. If I’m not wrong, your suitcase’s still at Candy’s hotel and I’d kill for a hot shower in your place.”

She nodded to the heap in her arms and Dipper made out blue jeans and a green lumberjack shirt.

“Besides, I’m sure you would have told me everything anyway.”

Dipper gave her a half-smile. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

He could hear the shuffling of blankets as Mabel rose even though he didn’t look at her. There was a warm feeling in his stomach, a sizzling sensation, the faint call of adventure and danger. For a few moments he almost felt almighty, as if he could stop the rotation of the earth if he tried, because he wasn’t alone anymore, his sister was with him and they had a common goal, a plan to help the people. Despite the lack of some necessary parts of the puzzle, he felt as motivated and optimistic as he hadn’t in a long time.

Until Mabel spoke, voice scarily grave.

“Dipper, you still haven’t answered my question. Where is Bill?”

_Bill._

Dipper was glad Wendy took care of the answer because he was busy not letting the heat gathering in his heart and running through his blood rise to his cheeks.

“I chained him to a pipe in the guest room.”

Mabel seemed too stunned to speak, or maybe she just didn’t have anything to say. Dipper couldn’t tell because he wasn’t trusting his facial features enough to meet her gaze.

“To be honest, I’d rather he were gone. Why isn’t he?” There was a low sigh. “He might be powerless and human but, Dipper, you don’t really think he has amnesia, do you?”

Something snapped inside him.

“I know he has!” Dipper spun around, panting and trying not to give in to the urge to yell even louder than he already was. “You two haven’t been with me, have you? You haven’t seen him with Lizzy, his grandma, you haven’t seen his paintings, abstract and pieced together like shards of a broken mirror… you haven’t seen that hard look of his eyes when he’s trying to make sense of a life that feels foreign but is the only thing he has left!”

The excitement, the energy fled through his fingertips, and the warmth right with it, leaving limbs like ice blocks. The urge to sit down, to rest and close the eyes was almost overwhelming. Dipper swallowed hard. “You haven’t even really talked to him,” he whispered.

There was a silence and an awful one at that. One of those silences you dreaded because they symbolised not only a lack of warmth but an abundance of bitter words and the fear to say something because it could only get worse.

Or couldn’t it?

“You’re right.” Wendy was the first to break the silence. “We haven’t really talked to him but perhaps we should. I don’t trust him but I trust you, Dipper. Still.”

“I…” Dipper lowered his gaze, a hand rubbing at his cheek, the lump in his throat back as if it had never left. A part of him felt like a silly child again, asking questions the adults were only laughing about. Young and confused.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me ever again.”

“I was angry, yes. And angry people say dumb things. But I’m older, and you’re older, and I think we both made mistakes... but the past is in the past, right? We have a town to protect and a monster to kill and, well, I never really hated you. Not even after their deaths. And now come and let me hug you.”

Someone laughed and maybe it was Dipper himself. If he was being honest, he didn’t really listen as the words were ringing through his ears like the soft echo of a mountain. A weight was lifted off his chest he hadn’t quite noticed before.

It wasn’t entirely like the hugs they had shared as teens but you couldn’t really compare nut-cream cake and apple pie either, could you? They were different but just as tasty and sometimes that was the only thing that counted.

~ 

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~


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, a long chapter once again (the next chap will probably take a while because I'm busy this week :/). Nevertheless, enjoy!

**Chapter 13**

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~

In the end, they decided to vote.

Dipper didn’t know why he was so nervous about the outcome, why it seemed so important that Bill helped them. He had been trying his best to get rid of him mere days before for god’s sake! He would have been happy to leave him behind in his grandma’s apartment! Not anymore. He wanted to talk to him, wanted to be close to him, and that feeling was irritating and annoying and so very unnecessary, and why did his lips still seem to tingle?

He could only hope Bill had kept to his advice and forgotten about… it.

However, that internal struggle didn’t change anything about his opinion on the matter. Bill had helped him before, why shouldn’t he be of help in the future? He hadn’t done anything to harm him, to keep him from finding his sister, and that alone should have been enough to earn him at least some basic respect.

Dipper told Wendy and Mabel so, hoping they could find an understanding, the words leaving an odd itch in his throat, as if it wasn’t made for them. Like an exotic fruit he tried for the first time and needed to get used to. A part of him wondered what Bill was thinking about, being left alone and chained to a wall for so long, but he did his best to shut that voice down.

Wendy was the first to agree. She shrugged, raising her chin as if preparing for a fight, and gave a short nod. “Why not? You’ve spent more time with him than we, and as I’ve said before, I trust you.” She grinned, then winked. “And I trust in my Glock.”

It took a lot longer to persuade Mabel.

Although she did roll her eyes in the end, pursing her lips and murmuring “As long as I don’t have to be in the same room as him”, Dipper felt like she wasn’t entirely convinced.

There was a dull gaze in her eyes, hidden behind the show she was putting on, and Dipper’s heart clenched when he realised she wasn’t fine at all. That having been alone with an abnormal, dark being had taken a toll on her and he could only hope the support he was able to give was enough. She hadn’t said anything about what had happened and Dipper couldn’t say if she would in the near future. A part of him was curious, of course, but his sister’s well-being was more important. If there was anything she could tell them that was of help for their quest, she would tell them soon enough. At least that was what Dipper managed to convince himself of.

Mabel was even more apprehensive of the idea of telling Bill everything. In that regard, Dipper had to agree, albeit begrudgingly. He himself had tried to keep every information regarding the Mystery Shack and their past encounters away from Bill and that way it should stay.

“As far as he’s concerned, I found the book and the list in the library,” Mabel said. Her narrowed eyes were piercing just through Dipper’s head, a subtle warning that wouldn’t have been necessary. Dipper nodded, knowing it wouldn’t do them any good to start an unnecessary discussion. Her eyes softened, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

Mabel turned to the pile of dirty clothes to grab a small velvet bag before opening it with quick fingers.

“I’ve almost forgotten about this…,” she murmured, pulling out a greyish piece of paper that might have belonged to a notebook once. “I hope it hasn’t gotten too smudgy from when I’ve walked through the river but… well, it’s alright, I guess. Here, read for yourself.”

Dipper took the paper from her outstretched hand, muscles tensing in anticipation.

“You’ve seen the list with the ingredients for the ritual,” Mabel said. “That’s the other part of it, the instructions. I found them a few days ago at the clearing… you know which one, that’s why they weren’t in the book as well.”

Dipper’s eyes flickered across the slightly distorted words, the writing the same one he had already seen not too long ago, Ford’s writing. It took a while to make out the letters the water had affected the most, but, luckily, it was readable.

  1. _use salt to make a circle - > do not leave under any circumstances until done!_
  2. _pour lavender tea and elderberry juice into a bowl (wood? alternative: stone)_
  3. _primroses need to be placed around the bowl_
  4. _place a_



Dipper looked up, his heart heavy in his chest. The edges of the paper were crumbled from the grip of his fingers and he had to consciously release the tension, exhaling slowly. There was a picture shoving itself into his mind like a nightmare you couldn’t escape. He could see Ford, sitting behind an old desk, face illuminated by the dancing flame of a candle, writing down those words to remember them when the time came.

He thought of himself back then, ten years ago, when he had just finished his studies, searching for a job and sending out applications like crazy. Not bothering to listen when, late in the evening, feet hurting from running around all day or mind numbed by one too many beers at the bar, he had noticed a tiny red bulb blinking next to his phone on the shelf. A message on the answering machine. Not bothering to call back, because he had no time, because he would visit them in a few months anyway, and if it was important they would call again soon enough, wouldn’t they?

“I was an idiot,” Dipper whispered, tasting bile. He pressed his eyes together for just a second too long before pushing the paper into Wendy’s tentatively reaching hand.

“I should have talked to them, I should have helped them, maybe… if I’d just…” Jaw working as if trying to grind down his teeth, he shook his head. He almost gave in to the urge to rub his face that was itching like damaged flesh after a terrible wound, his soul yearning to leave this body, to be free of this torturing guilt.

Eyes fixed on his sister, he sighed. “But I didn’t do anything… and you found out about this all by yourself, Mabel… you saved yourself without my help… you’re strong a-and successful and I’m… I’m… sorry. I’m a fool, I guess… what am I even doing here?”

He couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up his throat, laughter like raindrops on asphalt.

“That’s not true, Dipper,” Mabel said, lips trembling as if it was her that would burst into tears any moment now, not him.

“I didn’t help Stan and Ford either, I was busy promoting _Starry Spark_ and enjoying the attention I was getting, forgetting all about Gravity Falls… Soos helped me, he even gave me the book… a-and I actually didn’t really do anything to save myself. I only noticed the spell keeping me in the cave dissolving… wavering… as if Tom couldn’t keep it up anymore… like a storm affecting the reception of the TV.”

A shiver ran through her body but soon enough she crossed her arms, shaking her head as if not wanting anyone to notice.

“Maybe something has distracted him,” she murmured. Distracted?

 _Bill Cipher, my old friend_ , the cruel wind whispered. Something clicked in Dipper’s mind, like the last piece of a puzzle finally finding its place. Mabel must have had the same thought because her eyes lit up, mouth snapping open just a second before Dipper’s.

“You. You’ve said you and Bill have talked to him. That must have been it, the distraction.” The smile on her face could have shone up the entire sky. “You see, you did save me… in a way. You’re great, Bro, don’t let anyone tell you differently, especially not yourself.”

Her joy was contagious. Watching the shadows disappear from her face, watching those tiny dimples sink into her cheeks, Dipper could believe her even though a part him would always feel guilty.

“You’ve managed to make Bill Cipher like you,” Wendy smirked. “I wouldn’t call that a fool. A wizard maybe.”

Dipper rolled his eyes and yet couldn’t help but chuckle. Wavering through him was the odd wish to thank Wendy, to hug her again, to hug Mabel as well, and maybe the world wasn’t as dark as he liked to paint it. Perhaps he just needed to find a new set of colours.

He raised a brow. “Maybe I should write that on my next letter of application. Dipper, the Wizard… does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

He wouldn’t admit it even to himself but hearing Wendy say Bill liked him, if in joke or not, made a warmth swell in his chest that made it painful _not_ to grin. However, soon after Mabel and Wendy’s laughter had faded away the more pressing matters were ringing right back through his mind.

 _Well, if I’m alive enough to write another application_ , the more cynical part of him argued and let the smile on his face melt away.

He drew a deep breath and spoke.

“We need to make a plan, maybe split up, so we accomplish more in less time…”

Ideas were rushing through his brain, some burning up like a dying star as soon as he thought about them more than a few seconds. Some remained, taking up more and more space until every other idea had been cast away. With the journals gone and no idea where to look first for better clues, there really was only one way.

“Our best shot is to re-enact the ritual,” Dipper said. “We’ll need something to keep Tom away and we have to find some way to make it permanent, but other than that… it had banished him once…”

He raised a hand, his index finger and thumb drawing closer until they were resembling a reverse C. “We just need that much more power, you see, just that little bit that kills him off for real. We only need to find out how we get it. And perhaps Bill can help us with that.”

~

Bill spoke as soon as they walked into the guest room, almost as if a part of him had sensed their presence.

“I’m hungry,” he complained, arms crossed and gaze as dark as it could get without appearing too threatening. “Next time you chain me up I expect at least a sandwich. Or pizza. Pine Tree, you still owe me one, you know.”

Dipper didn’t even try to respond to that comment. His heart fell back to its place between his rips after having beaten in his throat for the last five minutes or so, but he couldn’t quite relish that first relief. He wasn’t blushing, he wasn’t even trying to hide from Bill’s gaze, and yet every fibre of his body seemed to burn in scared anticipation. _Please, don’t say anything_ , his mind whispered. _Please, don’t joke around for once_.

If Mabel and Wendy knew he had… they would kill him. Dipper didn’t even know why he had done it himself, how could he expect any kind of sympathy? Especially as it had been hard enough by itself to convince them not to strangle Bill as soon as they saw him?

“It’s your lucky day,” Wendy said, walking over to Bill with a silver key in her hand. A wide grin appeared on Bill’s lips, even wider than the one before, and he tilted his upper body away from the pipe, anticipating Wendy’s next moves. “It seems you’ve earned a chance to redeem yourself.”

It clicked when the cuffs popped open. Wendy’s voice was the hiss of a cobra ready to strike, red hair licking at Bill’s face like flames as she leaned towards him. “Don’t waste it.”

Bill pulled the former caged hand to his lap, twisting the joint a few times and rubbing the red lines drawn into his skin like war paint. His gaze was unreadable, his chuckle a song of slightly nervous excitement.

He held onto the wall to get up, grimacing as he forced his legs out of the position they had been all night. It was only after he had straightened his back and come to a stand that he spoke again.

“That’s really not the right way to treat your guests.” He shook his head dramatically. “Zero out of five stars, do not recommend. I much prefer Candy’s establishment.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, shortly reconsidering his decision. He sighed.

“We have a job to do, Bill. You’re coming with me. I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

Bill’s grin froze, now only the shade of a once happy smile, now almost dark and taunting. “You never tell me everything, Pine Tree. You wouldn’t.”

A shiver ran down Dipper’s spine, the same shiver a child might get getting caught faking their homework. _You’re not wrong_ , Dipper thought, a pang of guilt and anger racing through his chest that shouldn’t be there. His blood seemed too hot in his veins, muscles tense and itching. Some part of him wanted to give in to his temper, wanted to be annoyed at the seriousness of Bill’s tone, wanted to be annoyed at his own guilt, but he managed to keep his voice down, only narrowing his eyes.

“Well, you know what I mean,” he said, slowly, considering every word before letting it roll off his tongue. “Everything you need to know.”

It was only much later that he realised why he had got angry in the first place. It wasn’t because he had felt as if Bill knew too much, as if Bill could look right through him, even though that might have played a part as well. It was mostly because Bill had been wrong.

Yes, Dipper wouldn’t tell him everything but only because Wendy and Mabel didn’t want him to. If they weren’t there, Dipper knew it wouldn’t take much for him to answer every one of Bill’s questions, yes, a part of him _wanted_ to tell him everything. It was like hanging onto a rope that you knew would tear and snap at any moment.

It was scary because he shouldn’t trust Bill, and yet he did.

~

It had been at least half a decade since the last time Dipper had been at a library, looking at books instead of merely noticing the building from the outside. He just had had better things to do at first, and then not enough money to keep a library card. There had been a time he had rather spent his earnings on a cold beer at the bar than on the newest work of Stephen King or Bill Bryson.

The librarian at the front desk didn’t even look up from her papers, the ink pen bobbing about with every word she wrote down. Luckily, it wasn’t even midday, so the aisles weren’t crowded and the sun’s light was enough to illuminate the rows of books in all shapes and colours. They wouldn’t even need candles, at least not if they would find the solution to their problem soon enough. Sadly, that wasn’t as probable as Dipper would like it to be.

“So we’re looking for a way to complete that grocery list? How boring”, Bill said, pursing his lips. He scanned the wooden shelves and the old paintings hanging on the walls out of heavy-lidded eyes, then shook his head. “I can’t believe I’ve said I’d help you. I bet we won’t even find anything helpful. Libraries… what a waste of time…”

“With that attitude you can wait outside,” Dipper muttered, knowing fully well he would take any help he could get. His skin was still prickling, muscles and mind tense as he waited for Bill to broach the topic of their kiss, but the more time passed, the better he could ignore those feelings. It seemed as if Bill was behaving as he should for once, at least in that regard.

He took a deep breath as they turned around yet another corner, approaching the old part of the library, the part that wasn’t only filled more densely with books but also didn’t have a system that made it easy to organise them. There were just too many of them and the mayor had decided it would cost too much money to label and registering them. It was old enough to hide secrets, handwritten love letters in between cooking books or an essay calling for rebellion next to Jane Austen’s signed _Pride and Prejudice_. It was the only part that they could hope to find the right book in.

“Maybe we don’t need to… _complete_ the list,” Dipper added, brows drawn together. “Maybe they really made a mistake we need to correct. Damn, the best thing would be to talk to them… but that’s not possible.”

Seeing all of those books they had to go through, realising how much time it would take, how much time it could take in the long run, he felt a wave of hopelessness crashing over him. His legs stuck to the floor as he fought to keep standing, mind dizzy. He shook his head. _We can do this_.

“We should split up,” he announced, pointing to the other side of the room. “Start with that shelf and go down that aisle… just tell me when you find something interesting. That way we can cover more books… b-but maybe skip the comedy section.”

He wouldn’t have needed to send Bill so far away but he knew he could work far more focused without Bill breathing down his neck, or worse, starting a conversation. If he ended up being helpful, all the better.

Bill didn’t move at first, grin fading as he caught Dipper’s eyes, then scanning his face. The intensity of his gaze, unblinking even, made it hard not to blush and Dipper could feel in the heat of his blood, in the heat creeping into his cheeks, that he was failing.

“Maybe you should disinfect that scratch, Pine Tree,” Bill said, drawing a finger along his own forehead and temple. “Looks quite ugly.”

It was only after Bill had turned around to follow his instructions that Dipper realised what he was talking about. He remembered the burning sensation when that branch had caught him mid-run in the forest the day before. Now that he was thinking of it, he could feel the damaged skin itching and prickling as well. His stomach twisted and the corners of his mouth dropped.

 _Well, thank you very much, Bill Cipher_ , he thought, rolling his eyes.

It was fifteen and a half books later when he groaned out loud, letting his head fall right on top of the opened pages of yet another wannabe exorcism book. The smell of dust and old leather almost made him cough but he didn’t have the strength to lift his head, inhaling and exhaling in small breaths instead. What a disaster.

The joints of his fingers hurt from turning page after page and the tips felt numb as if he had somehow desensitised the skin by pressing it against so much paper, following lines and quotations that had led to nothing in the end.

A glance to the clock on the wall out of the corner of his eyes told him almost two hours had passed. Probably enough time for Wendy and Mabel to finish the purchase of the ingredients.

He sighed, the sound long and echoing through the room in an oddly sad way. His joints cracked when he rose after all, rubbing his eyes a few times. Blinking, he looked around, trying to find Bill even though he had hardly any optimism left for the hope that Bill had found something without telling him. Why couldn’t the solution have been in the first book he had opened?

Dipper swallowed hard, dry tongue searching for saliva. His eyes instinctively went to the table where a bottle of water should have been until he realised he hadn’t brought one. His shoulders slumped down. Dammit.

And where the fuck was Bill?

Dipper looked around once more, but to no avail. He was the only person in this corner of the library, the silence lying over him like a blanket and dulling his senses. Even his breathing seemed louder than normal.

Heart skipping a beat, Dipper decided to follow the aisle he had sent Bill to, partly glad he had an excuse to move his legs and walk around for a bit.

“Bill? Did you find anything?”

No answer.

Flesh crawling, Dipper tried to ignore the bile wandering up his throat, the doubts and worries knocking against the back of his mind. _He’s fine_ , he told himself and yet he couldn’t stop his heartbeat from accelerating, hands closing to fists.

“Bill…?”, he murmured when he walked into another room, voice now considerably quieter, and considerably less confident. A shiver ran down his spine as he noticed the shadows pooling at the bottom of the shelves, dark like a black hole, dark like death itself. It couldn’t be normal, could it? _Run_ , something whispered, something yelled. _Run_!

A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders like talons of a vulture, and Dipper couldn’t help but jump, yelp, expecting claws to tear his chest open. Expecting blood to spill out of his heart like from a fountain, painting everything horribly red, pulling him into a terrible death. Expecting pain.

Instead, there was only thundering laughter when Bill loosened his grip and Dipper, still shaking turned on his heels to face him. It didn’t take him long to narrow his eyes, snarling.

“Why the _freaking fuck_ did you think that was a good idea, you thrice-damned bastard?!”

Bill was still laughing, tears in his eyes and all, but he did wince at the anger in Dipper’s voice. He forced himself to stop which seemed to require a lot of effort on his part. His grin remained, though. He tilted his head, face twisting until he was almost pouting when he realised Dipper wouldn’t be ceasing to glare at him anytime soon.

“Oh, come on, Pine Tree. It was funny.” That damn smile. “You should have seen your face when you thought I was gone.”

“I hate you, Bill Cipher.”

Bill sighed, averting his gaze as if he wasn’t able to look into Dipper’s eyes anymore. A hand reached up to rub his neck, a picture of at least somewhat serious remorse. “Fine. I admit I usually have more taste, alright.”

It was weird how Dipper couldn’t stay angry with him, now that he was standing in front of him again, eyes sparkling like liquid sun light. Even if that apology wasn’t quite an apology, it was better than everything he would have expected from Bill, better than most of the reactions he had got from Bill in the past.

Dipper was ready to continue the research, ready to forget about this incident when Bill did something he hadn’t expected in the slightest. Or rather, something he had expected a few hours ago but had now shoved to the back of his mind where it should have gathered dust, forgotten and done with.

Bill’s grin changed into something different, something that wasn’t quite smile or smirk, just a gentle curve of the corner of his mouth. The lines of his face seemed to soften, seemed to warm up. Or heat up rather, because Dipper felt blazing sparks running through his body once again.

“But I know you don’t hate me.” Bill leaned towards him, just enough to let him forget how to breathe, just enough to let his muscles tense up. Why were they standing that close again? How could it have happened when he had sent Bill to the other end of the room to avoid this exact situation?

Bill didn’t kiss him, though. He only placed a finger on Dipper’s forehead, following the line of his nose, then pausing on his lips for a second that seemed to last an eternity, the touch leaving a hot trail on his skin. Throat even drier than before, Dipper tried his best not to lose his calm, scowling, jaw locked as if glued together. He wouldn’t have been able to say anything anyway.

Bill made a short step backwards, grin falling out of his face as if someone had turned on a switch, replacing it with a dark frown.

“Why did you kiss me? I don’t like being kissed without a warning.”

Time trickled by like sand in a broken hourglass and Dipper took a shallow breath, unable to inhale properly with how fast his heart was beating. He couldn’t meet Bill’s gaze.

“As I’ve said before… forget it,” he muttered, drops of sweat tickling his neck. “We’ve got more important things to do.”

He wanted to brush past Bill, hoping against reason he would let the matter rest. He couldn’t even make two steps before Bill’s hand clasped around his upper arm with an iron grip.

“I don’t want to.”

Dipper froze, legs weak. _Why are you making it so damn hard for me?_

“I don’t want to forget it. I think I liked it,” Bill added, voice a hurricane raging through Dipper’s mind. “Do it again.”

Dipper held his breath, slowly turning his head to look at Bill. It was hard to catch a coherent thought when they were dancing through his mind like butterflies in spring. His heart had either dropped to the pit of his stomach or travelled up his throat. Or perhaps it had left his chest entirely because he couldn’t hear its beating anymore, only those words of Bill. He blinked, blinked again.

“Kiss me.”

Bill wasn’t grinning but Dipper couldn’t help but wish for that joking attitude to be back. His eyes were wide and eager, now a shade of honey, curiosity flickering through their depths, and something else as well. Dipper’s gaze jumped to his lips for a horrible second, drawn to them, and he knew he was lost.

Hand trembling, he reached up to cup Bill’s cheek, pausing, taking a shuddering breath and searching his face for any kind of uneasiness, disgust maybe. He couldn’t find it. The hand around his left arm was like a ring of fire, the grip getting tighter with every second, and Dipper couldn’t find the strength to wrest himself free. His sigh was one of agony.

 _Dammit_.

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Bill’s, electricity running through his body in prickling waves. He didn’t move despite the itching desire to pull him closer, to explore that soft skin with his tongue because he couldn’t believe in this, because he was just waiting for Bill to back off and ridicule him. It was only when Bill tilted his head slightly, just barely returning the pressure as if he wasn’t quite sure of what to do next, that Dipper let those doubts fall into the abyss of his mind.

It wasn’t quite a kiss but a dance. His hand moved to graze the line of Bill’s jaw before wandering to his neck, fingers curling into strands of hair like silk, pulling, pressing closer. He opened his mouth to nib at the soft flesh of Bill’s bottom lip, sucking it in gently, a moan humming at the back of his throat. Letting go of it to deepen the kiss, meeting Bill’s tongue, licking, playing, teasing.

A rush of energy and desire made him gasp, the sound distant and soon forgotten. Noticing that Bill’s hand had fallen down his arm and back to his own side again, Dipper couldn’t help but grin against his lips, placing short pecks in the corners of his mouth before letting their tongues brush against each other again. The moment tasted like too much cake, sweet and yet nauseating, later, when you were realising what you had done.

It took him much too long to be able to break away, and even when he did, a part of him was still yearning to go in for another taste.

They were both panting slightly, the silence wavering with tension like the sky before a storm. Bill was looking at him as if he hadn’t quite seen him before, as if it had always been just the shadow of him, cheeks flushed and eyes tinted dark.

“You’re welcome,” Dipper mumbled, repressing the urge to squirm or avoid that gaze. _What have I done?,_ something yelled inside him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back anymore.

Bill still didn’t say anything, only staring at him, and Dipper felt irritation surging through him.

“There,” he ground out. “You got your kiss. Satisfied? We need to go on with the research… we wasted too much time already.”

Bill blinked, flashing a grin, and the mirror of his silence broke. “You’re lucky I’m here then. Look.”

He walked to the closest table, picking up a piece of paper Dipper hadn’t noticed before. Hope rekindling in his chest, Dipper hurried to follow him, glancing over Bill’s shoulder to look at whatever he had found.

The paper seemed old and brittle, its colour an ugly yellow, and it stood in odd contrast to the writing. It didn’t show the neat, black letters you would expect from a medieval document but blue ink, sometimes spilled as if it had been written down in a hurry.

 _A look into the past_ , its title said.

“It’s a spell that takes you back into the past. You can’t talk to anyone or change anything, but you can observe quite well,” Bill explained. “I remember you said something about talking to your uncles and as that isn’t possible, this is the second best. I thought you could visit the time they wrote down the ritual and see if they’ve made any mistakes.”

 _What?_ Dipper frowned. He needed a few seconds to gather his thoughts and in the end, he wasn’t happy with what he was saying.

“That’s… great.” _Too great_ _to be true_. “Where did you find this?”

“Oh, it was in between the pages of some book… about medieval torture methods. What do you say? We should go to the clearing and try it, hm?”

Doubt was swirling through his mind like a poisonous cloud. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? How could they even be sure it worked? What if it did work, but in a different way and Dipper was stuck in the past? Or worse, the description was wrong, a cruel joke, and he would die an excruciating death? Having been in a book about torture methods didn’t exactly give him relief as well.

How could Bill be so sure it worked?

Dipper wet his lips, taking the paper out of Bill’s hand to observe it more closely. _Maybe he just wants to be helpful_ , he thought. _Maybe he just wants to convince me he really can be helpful._

“It’s a start,” Dipper said, voice more confident than he felt. “If we don’t find anything else in the next hour or so, we’ll give it a try.”

“Hm.” Bill rolled his eyes. “If you say so.”

~

~

~


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here we go again! :) As I was on a drawing spree recently I painted a scene out of this chapter (it's at the end). Thanks again for every nice comment, you can't believe how happy they make me!

**Chapter 14**

~  

~

~

In the end, they didn’t find anything else even though Dipper added another two hours of fruitless research. 

The sun was already setting when he begrudgingly gave up, the sky coloured a dark grey that didn’t really help lift his spirits. When he checked his phone after leaving the building he had eleven unread messages from Wendy. He could almost hear her scolding him in the back of his mind as he read them, stomach sinking with every new word, skin prickling as if someone were rubbing acid on it. He couldn’t return like that, not without any solution.  

Mabel and Wendy had done their job, the messages told him. They had gathered the ingredients and only needed that last missing piece of the puzzle that Dipper couldn’t provide. Yet. 

Maybe it was the fear of being a disappointment all over again that made Dipper agree to Bill’s plan after all. Even if it didn’t work he could say he had tried everything and Bill had been helpful in the past, hadn’t he? 

Nevertheless, it was with a churning stomach and a heavy heart when he drove into the forest, a grinning Bill at his side.  

“Don’t pull that face, Pine Tree,” he complained, shaking his head. “I have a good feeling about this. Trust me.” 

Dipper snorted, warily eyeing the darkening sky and the growing shadows of the trees. At least they had bought a couple of lavender blossoms, so they had a certain degree of safety. It didn’t want to make him feel safe, though. 

“I don’t like how late it is,” he grumbled, grip tight around the steering wheel. The sooner they would be able to leave this whole thing behind the better.  

~ 

The clearing hadn’t changed since the last time he had seen it, but his feelings had. He took every step with caution, heart racing between his ribs, as if the earth could open and swallow him up if he wasn’t careful. The grass seemed less green, as dull and sad as a sea of dead fish. The wind had picked up again, dishevelling his hair like an invisible hand.  

Dipper wanted to run right back to his car and drive away, but that wasn’t an option anymore, was it? 

“We have to hurry,” he murmured making his way to the makeshift gravestone of Stan and Ford. “I’ve told Wendy we’ll be back in an hour at most. She’s fuming already.” 

He had also told her they were at the clearing, just in case Wendy and Mabel would need to go looking for them. Just in case they wouldn’t make it back on time, for whatever reason. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. 

Forming a circle out of the lavender blossoms around the stone felt like an offering, could have felt like a sign of consolation if it had come from anyone other than Dipper himself. Still, it was almost able to turn the place into something pretty and peaceful. The purple petals were like glimmering coals in a dark night, warming and helpful. Though, in the end they were only a tool, nothing more than that. 

He wasn’t here to weep for the dead. 

Bill wasn’t supposed to know Stan and Ford, so Dipper had no other choice but to use that spell on himself.  

He walked into the centre of the circle, scanning the text once again. The light had become weak, the sun hidden behind clouds, so he had to squint his eyes. Even then it was a struggle to decipher the words. Maybe he should finally consider getting glasses.

“Why don’t you let me recite the incantation?”, Bill asked, lips pursed and arms crossed. He was with Dipper in the circle, solely because it seemed too risky for him to be without any means of protection. 

“Why should I?!”, Dipper snapped, more than slightly irritated after giving the same answer to that question for the fourth time. His grip around the paper tightened. “It’s not like you’ve had _Spells and enchantments and how to properly recite them_ in school, have you?” 

“Well, I don’t like standing around doing nothing. I found that thing in the first place, let me have a bit of fun, Pine Tree!,” Bill exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “Come on, you don’t even look as if you can read the letters. Maybe you should consider getting glasses.” 

“I don’t need-,” Dipper began, almost ripping the paper apart in the urge to make fists. He didn’t blink, glaring at the letters that seemed to get tinier, dancing like silhouettes behind a curtain. Shaking. Just blurry enough to be unreadable.

“Ah, damn it!,” he groaned, pressing the paper into Bill’s hands as if he wanted to hurt him with it. “And damn you as well.” 

Bill didn’t respond, probably surprised Dipper had given in. A grin appeared on his face, a sparkle in his eyes, and Dipper couldn’t help but wonder if he was making the right decision. Bill wouldn’t hurt him, would he? Not after everything. Not when he had saved his life merely a day before. Not when he had almost begged Dipper to kiss him. Right? 

“When I’m done think of what you want to see and don’t let any other thought into your mind... that’s what the warning’s saying, so I bet it’s pretty important.”  

Dipper nodded, only halfway listening to what Bill was saying. He had read the text. He knew what to do. That didn’t mean he should trust Bill with reciting the incantation. 

_He would_ , a quiet voice inside him answered at last, and he felt as if a rope were slung around his neck. There was not enough air in his lungs, not enough strength in his muscles. _He will hurt you. It’s just a matter of time._  

Dipper opened his mouth to stop the whole thing, to return to Wendy and Mabel. Maybe with empty hands, yes, but also with a light heart. 

Bill beat him to it. 

His voice was quiet when he read the words that weren’t quite words but syllables like lone wolfs, sounds not supposed to be said one after another. His voice was like the humming of electricity surging through a power line, the air quivering with tension. 

The hair in Dipper’s neck stood up as if he had been thrown into a frozen lake, a shiver making his body shake.  

The wind was roaring in his ears and yet he could still hear Bill reciting the spell. So very confident. Without hesitation, without even a flicker of doubt or fear. 

_There’s no way he’s reading this out for the first time,_ Dipper thought, eyes widening. _He knows the spell._  

He had no time, though. No time to confront Bill, no time to change the plan. He wouldn’t have been able to anyway. 

Dipper couldn’t do anything against it. His eyes fell shut like they did after an exhausting day, and his legs and arms grew heavy, too heavy. As if his blood were transforming into stone, as if he himself were changing into a statue, doomed to be awake but paralysed for eternity. 

_I don’t want this!_ , Dipper shouted inaudibly, forced to stay silent yet screaming for help inside the cage of his body. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t move.  

He felt the earth trembling, wavering as if threatening to open, and then his left foot wasn’t touching it anymore. He lost his balance, unable to keep it, unable to move his weight to the other side, unable to run away, unable to keep himself from falling, and he fell. 

“Find that missing piece!”, Bill yelled, his voice echoing through the darkness Dipper was captured in, vibrating through his body, much louder than it should have been. 

What choice did he have? Dipper forced himself to shut down the panic and think of Stan and Ford and the Mystery Shack and how it had been, ten years ago. 

And his feet met earth again. 

He opened his eyes, then closed them. He took a few trembling breaths, heart racing as if he had run a marathon. 

_This can’t be._  

But it was. 

Dipper opened his eyes and could see. Could see something he had thought he would never see again. The Mystery Shack. 

His heart stopped only to beat twice as quickly as before. _It looks just the same_ , he thought, a smile locked on his lips, and for that one precious moment he felt as good as he hadn’t in a long time. He had thought all those years away from Mystery Falls, all those years without the Mystery Shack, would have clouded his memories. Though, that wasn’t the case.  

He recognised the living room as if he had never been away. His body relaxed, telling him he was at home now, telling him everything was fine. 

There was the yellow armchair Stan liked to watch TV in, the large, old-fashioned lamp that made you wonder how it could still work after all this time, the wooden round table they had played more than a few board games on, and of course the cheapest chairs you could find in the whole of Oregon. The stone walls stood high and solid, nothing indicating they would be broken, their pieces scattered about, in less than a month. 

They had needed to replace the carpet with a slightly darker one after an accident with a rabid squirrel but, still, the picture felt so familiar it hurt. Dipper could almost see himself, young and not quite as pessimistic as he was now, reading the journal of an author clad in secrets. He could almost see Mabel playing with Waddles and crushing that poor pig with her hugs. He could almost see Stan and Ford... 

_They’re here_ , Dipper realised, eyes wide. The spell had worked, so he must be in the past, a few years after Stan and Ford had returned to the Mystery Shack it seemed. Shortly before their death at Tom Gana’s hands. 

He wasn’t sure if he could bear looking at them with that knowledge.  

Shaking his head, Dipper took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. All that mattered at the moment was the ritual and how it could be done right. He didn’t even know how much time he had, so he shouldn’t waste any with sentimental reminiscence.

He tucked those thoughts, and the scared confusion about Bill’s behaviour, away and looked around the room, really looked, with eyes that weren’t tinted by the past anymore. The spell had sent him here, didn’t that mean what he was looking for was close? Or was that too much to hope for?

He made a hesitant step forward, almost believing he would walk into darkness again, heart doing a fluttering leap. The floor was solid, though, as solid and real as it could be. Everything felt real. Though, when Dipper glimpsed his right hand out of the corner of his eye, it didn’t look real.

_Damn_ , he muttered, stomach turning. In less than a second he had lifted both of his hands into the air to get a better look. In less than a second he had to dump the hope that it had been just a trick of the eye, jaw tensing. It didn’t reassure him to see his skin this pale, the colours of the carpet shining through, the veins light blue threads dancing in the air and disappearing every now and then. He wasn’t supposed to be here and this was his body showing him, _no, this isn’t right, the you as it is doesn’t belong to this time_.

Thirty-something Dipper was only a shadow of the future at this point in time. A ghost.

“I need a break!”, a voice announced, making him wince. A frown drew lines into his forehead. It had been so long since he had last heard it. Too long. When he recognised it, his whole body froze, his heart stopped beating and in that instant he really felt more dead than alive.

“You do your… whatever you like to call this. I’ll be watching TV.”

Grunkle Stan.

“Helpful as always, aren’t you?” Ford’s voice carried a silver of sarcasm that didn’t even try to hide. There were steps, wood creaking beneath heavy boots.

There was the urge to move, panic flaring up inside him as Dipper’s eyes flickered across the room like startled birds. He made a move to the table, following the instinct that screamed at him to hide because _they mustn’t see you_ , because _you shouldn’t be here_.

There was no time, though, and it didn’t matter anyway.

Stretching his arms, Stan walked into the room, pulling a grimace when something cracked that hopefully wasn’t a rib. At first, Dipper couldn’t do anything but stare, eyes burning from a lack of blinking, a weight settling in his gut that felt like melting ice. He couldn’t tell any difference from the last time he had seen him, the last time he remembered, and, wow, had it really been that long?

Until he could, until he realised that Stan wasn’t looking like his usual self at all. His grey hair was too short to do anything other than lying pressed against his head, the lines in his face even more prominent than the dark circles beneath his eyes, and there was a tension in his posture that reminded Dipper of an abandoned deer daring to face the hunter.

He was wearing his suit but it wasn’t quite clinging to his body, the black jacket open and loose, the maroon bow tie halfway tucked into his pants as if he couldn’t be bothered to put it on. He looked exhausted. He looked frustrated.

For a terrifying moment Stan’s gaze scanned the room, for a terrifying moment he was looking straight at Dipper, looking straight _through_ Dipper, and then he wasn’t looking anywhere else than at the TV anymore. He let himself fall into the armchair and Dipper could breathe again.

_Of course, he can’t see me_ , he reassured himself, neck tingling against reason. _No one can, here._

The TV jumped to life drawing Dipper’s gaze to itself and a female voice began to sob about the trials of love. It was an old TV, almost equal in width and length, heavy enough to make you wonder how anyone could have placed it there. It was also big enough to carry a small framed picture, Stan and Ford grinning aboard the Stan-O-War II.

Something tugged at Dipper’s heart and if he hadn’t already been caught by a storm of emotions, he would have now. The boat had survived long enough but you could only patch holes caused by sea monster attacks for so long. Stan and Ford had been mostly fine with it, would have retired soon anyway, but Dipper couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t been destroyed. It was a shame, really. It would have survived the fire. Unlike the yellow armchair, unlike the almost new carpet. Unlike the photo in the frame.

His skin was still tingling, almost itching, as if he was being watched but he tried to ignore that feeling. It felt weird to be invisible but he would be back soon enough. Right?

That was when Ford stepped into the room, looking even worse than Stan, if that was possible. If Stan was looking like an insomniac after too much booze, Ford came straight from a car accident involving dust, dirt and exploding exhaust pipes. There was a crack running through the left lens of his glasses and an ugly bruise blossoming next to his temple. His ragged beard had grown out to hide most of his lips as if he had lost his razor three times in a row and didn’t have the money to buy a new one.

His blue eyes were shining with determination, though, only a glimmer of fatigue peering through. He was holding a few pieces of paper, some of them white, some tinted yellow from age. Taking a closer look, those older papers didn’t even look as if they had been made out of wood like your usual paper. Papyrus, maybe?

There was a pencil stuck in his mouth while Ford flicked through the pages with a look on his face that was too serious, almost too focused. Curiosity growing, Dipper inched carefully closer, not wanting to brush against Ford accidentally even if he would slide right through him probably.

However, he could only get a good look when Ford sat down, spreading out the papers across the table and taking the pencil into his hand. Dipper could recognise the white papers immediately even though only the first one had any words written on it.

  1. _use salt to make a circle - > do not leave under any circumstances until done!_



_2._

The ritual.

His heart leaped to his throat, a rush of adrenalin surged through him, and he didn’t dare to blink.

Ford was writing down the instructions, here and now. This was what Dipper had wanted to see, this was what could solve all their problems if only the right things came to light.

“I hope that thing’s worth the feathers I _still_ find in the corners of my car, Sixer,” Stan muttered from his seat. His eyes were glued on the flying locks of a woman riding a horse across the TV but he didn’t seem to see her. Dipper was sure if someone would ask him later what the film had been about, they would get answers ranging from space pirates to Russian spies.

Ford gave a low huff as if personally attacked. He was, probably. “I’m confident this will be more than crucial in destroying Tom. No more magic caves, I promise.”

“You said the same thing after that weird bracelet… and remember those crystals that gave me a rash all over my body?” A groan. “It still hurts to pee!”

“Well, _you_ weren’t attacked by the cave’s inhabitants, so shut your mouth and let me translate this in peace.” Ford’s lips were pressed into a tight line, gaze locked on the yellow paper that didn’t seem that old anymore, but rather blurry like a TV’s static, as if it didn’t want to be here either, as if it could crumble into pieces any second now.

It hurt to look at red signs Dipper couldn’t recognise, signs that seemed to dance, seemed to tremble. Signs of a strange language that Ford could read just well, it seemed.

“I’m not quite sure what those last letters mean,” his Grunkle murmured, placing a hand on his chin as if it could help him think. Furrowing his brows, he began to shake his head slowly. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”

Stan burped. “What?”

“This.” Ford sighed. “It’s called a banning ritual. It isn’t quite banning the target, though. It should kill it by all means. Destroy for all eternity. They have a few lines just to clear that up. It should work.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“ _Be blood be transform_ ed, no… _traded for blood_. Something, something _time is ending_. More than one time is ending? Or… lives…?” Ford got quiet in the end, making it impossible to make out the words he was saying, lips moving in silence.

A high-pitched noise rang through Dipper’s mind, more scream than whistling, making him shut his eyes, hands flying to his ears as he went to his knees despite himself. He felt as if his blood were boiling, then freezing, making his veins pound and ache in fear and panic. A large hand seemed to touch his back, seemed to reach right through his skin and into his flesh, seemed to grab his ribcage, seemed to squeeze. He couldn’t breathe, could only pray for it to be over.

It was torture.

Then there was blissful quiet in his mind again, and he could inhale, could exhale, could think, could listen. The invisible hand hadn’t left though, had only loosened its grip, was still pulling slightly. Dipper knew he didn’t have much time left.

“I think… they are asking for a sacrifice,” Ford said, looking as if he had aged ten years in those last minutes, or maybe that was just Dipper feeling awful and close to vomiting. His eyes fell shut and a horribly familiar darkness began to surround him, a darkness like a black hole. The earth began to shake and crumble beneath his knees.

“We have to give our blood in exchange for taking Tom’s life. Thinking about it… a litre should be enough.”

There was no earth anymore, just emptiness and the horrible feeling of being trapped in your own body, and Dipper fell once again.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t standing anymore, painfully clenched fists pressed into the earth of the clearing. There were a few lavender blossoms next to his right hand, violet and bright and pretty like a young woman. If he had followed their trail, he would have noticed the circle the flowers were forming.

He was back.

The sun hadn’t entirely set yet.

_Bill_.

The spell.

Dipper almost lost his balance when he forced himself to a stand, mind dizzy and slow. His arms were flailing but he couldn’t care less, gasping for breath before pressing his hands against Bill’s chest and pushing him as hard as his exhausted body was able to.

Bill, sadly, didn’t fell but only stumbled out of the lavender circle, glaring daggers at Dipper out of narrowed cat’s eyes. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“Y-you…,” Dipper began. Fighting down his quick breathing took a lot more effort than he would have thought. Internally, he was screaming already, blood in his veins hot enough to let him forget about the weakness of his limbs for a while. “You k-knew… you knew that damn incantation! You fucking knew what would happen, you dirty, lying bastard! Explain yourself!”

Bill’s face went blank, only for his lips to break into a half-smile that wasn’t an answer but a question. He tilted his head, leaning into Dipper’s direction in such a way that it seemed almost accidental. He put a hand on his chest, right where the heart should be. “That hurts, Pine Tree.”

Dipper didn’t say anything, only crossing his arms and trying to ignore that odd lump in his throat. Obviously realising he wouldn’t another response, Bill rolled his eyes.

“Well, I can see where you’re coming from, sure… but… what could I even gain from that?” He shook his head, blond strands dancing in the wind.

"That spell-thing worked, didn’t it? You’re fine and healthy… mostly. Let’s just say as fine as you’ve been before your little trip. Don’t jump to conclusions, buddy… where is that idea coming from anyway?”

Dipper remained silent, observing Bill’s every motion, every gesture, every tiniest twitch of a facial muscle, trying to decide if he was lying. It took him a long time to allow the tension in his body to soften, to allow his teeth to unclench. The tip of his tongue flickered over his dry, almost chapped lips, and he couldn’t quite meet Bill’s eyes anymore.

Was he lying? Was he telling the truth? Dipper couldn’t tell and it made it so much harder. He sighed, a weird mixture of defeat and doubt mingling in his brain and giving him a headache. It was hard. It was confusing. The only thing he knew was he didn’t want to stay angry with Bill even if that would have been the sensible thing to do.

“Alright,” Dipper ground out as if held at gunpoint.

Bill raised an eyebrow but Dipper only shook his head, turning around to go to his car. A part of him was almost hoping Bill would just stay here, would be left behind to never be seen again. A part of him was almost hoping Bill were just an illusion his mind had created because then he wouldn’t have to deal with conflicting feelings and an odd sense of betrayal he couldn’t place.

Bill didn’t grant him that wish, of course.

“Hey, Pine Tree, I-I’m…” Bill cleared his throat, the steps echoing behind Dipper indicating he was closing the distance between them. “Eh, what happened there? What did you see? It _was_ helpful, wasn’t it?”

Dipper gulped down a wave of nausea remembering that awful darkness, the feeling of falling through time and space. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t bearing a furious edge anymore. It sounded flat, hoarse even. “How long was I gone?”

A short silence.

“Dunno, five minutes maybe? Ten? Longer? I wasn’t exactly stopping the time, you know.”

Dipper still wasn’t looking at Bill even though his muscles were itching to just move that tiny bit, to turn his head and look at him. He knew a part of him would find a certain joy in watching Bill. A joy that shouldn’t exist. Yes, even glancing at him out of the corner of his eye could be enough. It was weird.

Dipper raised a hand to rub his face, sighing lowly.

“I can’t recommend that spell,” he mumbled. “It’s horrible. Nevertheless… I got what I wanted.”

It was hard to think of Stan and Ford knowing they were dead when they had seemed so alive just moments ago. When he had seen them again knowing they would wander into their doom, knowing neither he nor Mabel would be able to stop them. It was hard to blink away their faces out of the borders of his vision, heart heavy, corners of his mouth sinking. It felt like letting them down all over again.

But, well, perhaps they could get it right this time.

“Yeah? You know what’s missing?”, Bill asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

_The ritual_.

An icy weight settled in Dipper’s gut and he wasn’t able to walk on, had to pause mid-step for a split-second, had to take a deep breath and hope Bill hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. He cleared his throat.

“I… do. It’s blood.”

“Blood? How much?”

“Hm. We’ll see about that. Not that much, maybe a small prick into the thumb’s enough. We’re five people after all,” Dipper said, listening to his own lies as if it were someone else speaking. It was easier that way.

Of course it wasn’t just blood. Stan and Ford had been using blood just fine and they hadn’t been able to kill Tom but had died themselves, that couldn’t be the solution. However, Dipper wasn’t lying when he said he knew what had been missing. Ford’s words could be interpreted in different ways. The red signs of the paper could be translated in different ways, he had made that evident enough in those short minutes.

_Be blood be traded for blood._

_Lives are ending_.

_Lives_ , not life. Plural.

To kill Tom Gana someone of their group had to die as well.

~

~

~

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/165809663@N02/49585712782/in/dateposted-public/)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I apologise in advance oo)

**Chapter 15**

~ 

~

~ 

They mostly drove in silence. Bill tried to start a conversation three or four times, made a few silly jokes, but Dipper kept his mouth closed and his eyes on the road.

It was only when Dipper parked in front of Wendy’s house, the engine giving its last humming sounds, that Bill became serious. Maybe it was the sudden change that made Dipper pause, that made the hand reaching for the door fall back into his lap.

“You didn’t look too well then, back there at the clearing, you know.” A shaky chuckle chasing the earnest tone out of his voice. “It was kinda… worrying.”

Dipper snorted, face glowing up despite himself. He had to fight the urge to try and rub the heat from his skin. “W-well, _you_ recommended that damn spell to me.”

“Y-yeah, heh… I did. Still, I’m glad you didn’t die on me. What would I have told your dear sister? Or Red?”

“Wendy.”

“Whatever.”

Dipper turned his head in time to watch Bill roll his eyes, cheeks tinted a soft pink that might come from running after Dipper in the woods. Or maybe it didn’t. Dipper could feel himself smile until he realised what Bill had been hinting at.

“Wait… you didn’t really think I’d die, did you?”

Bill didn’t say anything at first. There were sparks dancing in his eyes, though, sparks that were speaking a language Dipper couldn’t understand. The closer he looked into that gaze, the more lost he found himself in it.

“You won’t die on me, Pine Tree,” Bill said, narrowing his eyes as if he were declaring a war or making a threat, and maybe he was. Maybe it was a promise. Maybe it was both.

His voice was just low enough to sound raspy and Dipper couldn’t help but shiver. Was there anything like being too serious? It was almost scary to see that murderous glimmer tinting Bill’s eyes, to see the tension in the line of his jaw until it vanished from one second to the other.

Dipper took a shaky breath. “Thanks, I guess….”

It would have been easy to close the distance between them, to lean just that tiny bit closer, and the air seemed to applaud that thought, seemed to be dense and hot. It was almost as if they were two magnets close enough to recognise each other, close enough to yearn for the touch.

Dipper wouldn’t have done it, though. He would have found the strength to pull away, to leave the car in silence.

It was Bill who had other plans. It was Bill who placed a hand on Dipper’s seat, fingers brushing against his leg as if by chance. It was Bill who leaned over to kiss him and there were warm lips making his own tingle, there was fire in his veins and a candle where his heart should be. Dipper returned the kiss because how couldn’t he?

How could he back off when Bill was offering what both his body and mind were yearning for? Even if those feelings were against reason, even if he shouldn’t have them, even if they were wrong, maybe, Dipper couldn’t change that anymore. He had been on the path of no return far too long already.

Bill was grinning when they broke the kiss, a grin like the rising sun, warm and giddy.

Hesitantly, Dipper began to smile.

The smile fell from his face as soon as his gaze grazed the car window behind Bill, though. He could see the path leading up the small slope Wendy’s house was standing on and he could see the person dashing down that path just as well.

Mabel. Her mouth opened to call his name, the sound muffled by the distance, her brown eyes hazel coloured by the sun’s light.

Dipper couldn’t say what her expression looked like because he was busy opening the car door as quickly as possible. His tingling neck reminded him all too well of what his sister would have thought if she had arrived just a few minutes earlier. Standing took more effort than should have been necessary but as he walked around the car he managed to regain some composure. Still, he was praying she hadn’t seen anything even remotely similar to a kiss.

“You’re back!”, Mabel exclaimed, grinning, and a weight fell off Dipper’s chest. She closed her eyes, pulling him into a hug that made him gasp for air. “I was beginning to get worried! Sometimes I really can’t believe you… those cryptic messages… terrible.”

Dipper freed himself from the hug, taking a step backward. Out of the corner of the eye he could see Bill observing them with a grin dancing on his lips.

“I’ve told you where we’ve been so you _wouldn’t_ get worried, Mabel.” He shook his head even though the playful tone of his voice made clear he wasn’t really scolding her. “What about _we’re at the clearing_ sounds cryptic to you?”

“I… might have overreacted a little bit,” Mabel mumbled, lowering her chin so her dark hair hid her face like a curtain. She moved her weight to the balls of her feet, leaning closer thereby. Dipper would have thought of it as an accident if she hadn’t whispered a question to him, the words rolling off her tongue in quick succession.

“Did he try anything?”

Dipper didn’t have to ask who ‘he’ was and still he needed a few moments to gather his thoughts. He swallowed hard, then shook his head decidedly. Somewhere within him his conscience quirked a brow at him but he kept ignoring it until it wasn’t more than a slight itch at the back of his mind. Bill had helped him. If not for him, Dipper wouldn’t have made any progress. There would still be a large question mark where the ritual’s instructions were now.

Dipper tried to avoid thinking about what that new information had entailed. It made his gut squirm and bile pool in his throat. It made a part of him wonder if it wouldn’t have been better if he hadn’t got to know the truth in the first place.

Possibilities had fought in his mind all the way to Wendy’s house, hopeful and desperate attempts at rationalising the situation snarling at him until he wasn’t even sure what the logical solution was anymore. He just knew he couldn’t let anyone die. But if no one would die, could they even use the ritual as means to kill Tom?

Part of him considered just banning him and letting someone else, a future generation, deal with the problem. Another part of him felt sick with guilt just thinking about it. Stan and Ford’s sacrifice would have been in vain, so many deaths would have been in vain. And so many deaths would have yet to come.

Did it make any sense to ponder a problem that had no solution?

Dipper sighed. “Let’s go to Wendy. I’ve got something to tell you.”

~

“I think we should wait with the ritual,” Dipper declared, internally bracing himself for furious frowns and biting remarks. He didn’t have to wait too long for them to appear.

“What?!” Mabel’s eyes widened.

“ _What_ are you saying?!” Wendy looked as if she was close to shoving him right out of the door again. Even her hair seemed to be elevated with tension, red strands a billow of flames. “Don’t tell me I’ve listened to that old lady’s talk about the language of flowers for nothing!”

“Is it because of something you’ve read?” Mabel’s face darkened. “The ritual’s not safe, right? Something’s wrong with it…”

Perhaps it had been Dipper’s expression, perhaps it had been their connection as siblings, whatever it was, it seemed to soak into Mabel like raindrops during a storm. She seemed to feel Dipper’s pain, seemed to know the truth without it being spoken out loud. She began to shake her head, a silent despair pouring into her gaze that made Dipper suppress a shiver. Her tone wasn’t even half as cheerful as it had been just a few minutes ago. “Oh god, t-that’s…”

Closing her eyes, she let the breath out between her teeth, voice flat and lacking emotion when she spoke. “We need to find something else then, don’t we?”

It sounded cold, the words thin and frail like sculptures made of ice. There was no warmth, no hope. It almost sounded as if she were contemplating giving up.

Dipper couldn’t push her back into the darkness she had just fled from.

“Oh, no. _No_. Not at all.” He cleared his throat to erase the traces of the lie lingering in his voice. “I’ve just… I’ve just been thinking it would be for the best if we get a good night’s sleep and maybe… think about the whole thing again. Maybe there’s a better solution hiding in plain sight.”

He knew it wasn’t very convincing. That was probably what made his temper flare up, what made him grind his teeth, a vein twitching at his temple. That and his recent lack of sleep. “I’m just saying we should consider everything. What’s wrong about that?!”

He bit his tongue before the last words could come out as a growl. His hands folded into fists. “I… I just didn’t want to worry you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

He forced himself to smile, catching Mabel’s hesitant glance upwards. _Please, believe me_ , he prayed internally. _Please, don’t ask any questions_.

“Listen, the ritual will work, I know that now-“

“How?”, Wendy interrupted him, crossing her arms.

Dipper paused, eyes flickering to Bill for a split-second, Bill who was standing just next to him, close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other every now and then. His heart made a leap out of his chest and he couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to take his hand, how nice it would be to have something to hold onto. He took a deep breath.

“Bill… he found a spell that takes you to the past and I’ve seen Ford writing down the instructions. He had to translate it, some alien language… it’s blood that’s missing. J-just a bit of our blood to serve as a connection to life itself.”

Why was he lying? Why wasn’t he telling the truth, saying they couldn’t go through with the ritual, lest one of them would die? Why was he making it so difficult for himself?

Wendy raised a brow. “Yeah? It’s that easy? Why should we wait then? That doesn’t seem fruitful to me. Dipper, I’m all in for considering alternatives but you’ve only been here for a few days. I’ve seen people die. I’ve seen fathers crying their hearts out and store’s closing because customers didn’t dare walk alone through the streets. Do you know how many people have left Gravity Falls since last month?”

She didn’t wait for a guess. “Forty. Plus three families who are ‘on vacation’ for three weeks now. You see it, right? We need to do something and we need to do it quickly. There’s no time to wait.”

Dipper’s throat felt hot and itchy and his mind felt as if someone had filled it with cotton. The feeling reminded him of the times in school when he had to walk to the front of the class to recite a poem he hadn’t learned. He felt trapped because he didn’t know how to make his way out of a terrible, embarrassing situation. He felt trapped because the one way he could go was almost worse than not going anywhere in the first place.

“Alright,” Dipper agreed, tasting bile. He gulped. “Still, one night to gather our thoughts, okay? One night. I… I…”

His eyes flew around the room aimlessly, not seeing anything because what he was looking for couldn’t be found here anyway. He might not be able to find it at all.

“I… I still need to get my things from Candy’s hotel. I don’t want to walk around with the same set of clothes for three days straight. You-your thing’s are there too, aren’t they, Mabel? A-and we should talk to Candy. She was really worried about you.”

“Candy,” Mabel muttered under her breath, corners of her mouth sinking. “Of course. She must be worried sick.”

Wendy shot her a glance before pulling a key with a tiny snowman attached to it out of the back pocket of her jeans.

“Here,” she said, holding it out for Dipper to take. “I have to talk to Durland about all this. Perhaps we could call the radio station and get people to wear lavender crowns as, dunno, part of the newest fashion trend.”

She snorted, winking at Mabel. A half-grin brightened her face and made the situation muss less dull-looking for a few moments. It was only then that Dipper noticed the necklace lying around her neck, its pendant a small jar made of glass, a jar filled with familiar lilac blossoms. Lavender.

“Anyways, the ingredients for the ritual are here, you’ll do alright without me. I’ll be back in a few hours, maybe earlier. Call me if there’s anything I should know. And for god’s sake, Dipper, don’t mute your phone, you dumbass. And… be careful.”

Those last words were wavering through the air even after Wendy had stepped out of the door, leaving a bitter taste in Dipper’s mouth. “You too,” he murmured even though she couldn’t possibly hear him anymore.

“Before we go…,” Mabel began, turning around to walk to the nearest table. “I made these, so we’d be protected… at least to some degree.”

Smiling, she raised her arm. The two necklaces dangling from her index finger were similar to the one Wendy was wearing, similar to the one Dipper could see resting between the folds of Mabel’s shirt as well. The glass was shimmering like liquid beneath the ceiling lamps.

_There are two necklaces_ , Dipper realised. One for him, obviously, and one for… Bill. Out of some weird reflex, his head turned by itself, looking for said man.

Bill wasn’t standing behind him anymore and a part of him was noticing the cold that came from the lack of close body heat, a vague feeling of longing trickling through his body like shards of ice. Arms crossed, Bill was leaning against the wall, the dark expression twisting his face reminding Dipper of a man who had just discovered that his wife hadn’t only cheated on him but had also stolen half his money and his car. It startled Dipper, standing in such a stark contrast to the usual grin.

Bill wasn’t looking at anyone, narrowed eyes staring at the floor with such an intensity as if he were trying to burn holes into it with sheer force of will. Dipper couldn’t even say if he had listened to their conversation so far.

However, he must have done so because it didn’t take more than a moment for him to notice the silence, for him to look up and push himself off the wall with a smirk.

“ _Aw_ , Shooting Star, you shouldn’t have!” He walked to Mabel, taking a necklace from her to let it fall around his neck. He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t usually wear jewellery but I think I can make an exception this time.”

Mabel pursed her lips, a thought sparking through her eyes that wasn’t readable but noticeable all the same. Her lips remained closed, though. Whatever made her mind spin, she wasn’t telling them.

“Well,” Dipper murmured while taking the last necklace for himself. “Let’s go then.”

~

The sun had already disappeared behind the forest when they arrived at the _Milky Way Hotel_ , painting the sky a dark blue like the deepest parts of the oceans. Contrary to those, though, Dipper knew what was hiding in the shadows here and it was far worse than any sea dwelling creature could be.

It was only moments after leaving the car that Dipper felt a tension settling on his shoulders, weighing him down as if wanting to stop him from moving forward. Furrowing his brows, he threw a short glance at Mabel, noticing her shivering, discomfort visible in her face. It didn’t exactly make him more confident.

Bill was whispering something that was too quiet to understand and despite feeling curious about it, Dipper felt as if it might be better not to know what he had said. His twisting stomach told him that he might get to know it even without a spoken word anyway. Still, a part of him was trying to rationalise those feelings, was trying to tell him that this nervousness was only an afterglow of facing danger so many times in a row.

It didn’t want to sit right with him.

A memory was knocking at the gates of his mind but he couldn’t reach it, couldn’t catch what was slipping through his fingers every time he tried to grasp it. He shook his head, made his way through the entry doors.

It was silent. Not the kind of silent you knew from a quiet morning at the supermarket or a cold day at the park. It was an unnatural silence, a silence that was there to emphasise the lack of something previously all too present. A silence that made you look at the hands of a clock, that made you wonder if they were moving at all because even your own pulsating heartbeat seemed to have stopped. A silence that seemed horribly familiar.

“This isn’t right,” Mabel whispered behind him, voice hoarse and thin. Turning around slightly, Dipper could see that she had slung her arms around her chest as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. Her eyes were frozen lakes, cold and glistening.

No one was waiting behind the reception desk. No blond girl and no Candy either. Still, the door had been open, so it could only be a matter of time until someone appeared. Right?

“I-it’s…” Dipper cleared his throat. “It’s rather late… maybe she’s in her room doing some paperwork…”

The words felt like a lie in his mouth and he gulped to get rid of the rotten taste on his tongue. It didn’t want to go away.

“M-maybe…,” Mabel mumbled. She looked as if she hadn’t blinked since they had stepped through the door.

Dipper’s gaze wandered from her to Bill, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t name yet. Bill’s mouth was agape as if he was about to say something but no sound was echoing through the air. The yellow of his eyes had almost swallowed his pupil and for a horrible second Dipper was reminded of another pair of yellow eyes, eyes without pupils, eyes like burning acid. A shiver ran down his spine.

Unconsciously, his hand crept to the pendant around his neck pressing it against his chest. He took a deep breath. Somehow he wasn’t that keen on getting his things out of the hotel room anymore.

Still, he couldn’t leave now. Even if he had wanted to, he felt as if there was a rope attached to this place, a rope drawing him in against his will.

“Your room first or mine?” Dipper raised a brow, trying to calm his accelerating heartbeat and failing. It really was ridiculous, dumb even, wasn’t it? Why was every fibre of his body tensing up as if as if being scared of an invisible monster?

The shadows didn’t look any different. There was no darkness pooling around their ankles. There was no Tom Gana here, he knew that. But what if…

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on Mabel just in time to see her shrug. Well, it didn’t matter anyway, did it?

In the end, it really didn’t matter.

Dipper was the first to go up the stairs leading to the hotel rooms. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he could feel the familiar shape of the keys, could feel the indentations where the numbers and letters had been ingrained, _A9_ and _A7_. He was about to take out one of them when his eyes fell on something that shouldn’t be. His hand let go of the keys as if he had burned himself, heart stuttering like a limping dog.

A frown sunk into the features of his face as he tried to ignore the sensation of an icy claw curling around his neck. Had he forgotten to close the door to Mabel’s room? He couldn’t remember but he must have, he must have, he…

His eyes fell shut as he took a few shallow breaths, unable to inhale properly. Of course, it didn’t matter if he had forgotten to close it. Candy would have had more than enough time to close it. The door should have been closed but it wasn’t. It was open.

It was open.

_Damn_.

His legs moved despite himself. He didn’t know where he took the strength from but it was as if his body didn’t really belong to him, his motions quick but static, tense. The pulse rushing through his ears made it difficult to say whether Bill and Mabel were following him or not. It didn’t matter.

He ran and it felt like flying. It also felt like falling, eventually.

Dipper remembered white pearls on the floor, pearls from Mabel’s necklace scattered about after her abduction. He remembered pink sweaters lying on a top of a messy white bed. He remembered feeling lost in a strange and oh so empty room.

It wasn’t empty anymore. It also wasn’t white.

There was red. More red than he had ever seen before, more red than he had ever wanted to see. So much red it seemed like an optical illusion in a children’s book, a picture that seemed confusing and tangled at first until you kept looking at the maze of colours and discovered coherent shapes. Except those were shapes he didn’t want to discover.

He felt sick even before the realisation of what he was looking at reached his consciousness completely, his startled stomach turning upside down.

_This isn’t right_ , Mabel’s voice whispered, floating through his mind like autumn leaves.

Candy’s back was propped up against the bedside. If you were squinting you might think she was just sitting there, waiting for her friend to come back, hands clasped upon her lap like a patient doll. Though, it wouldn’t take long for you to notice that her posture wasn’t natural at all, that there was hardly anything natural about it.

The skin at her neck was painted an ugly violet from bruises in a zagged line, the inky spots almost pretty in their deep colouring. They were almost able to hide the way her head was tilted, pulled back and twisted upon her neck. It looked as if someone had detached it from her body only to hurriedly put the parts back together without real knowledge of human anatomy. Her black hair was almost disappearing behind her back but Dipper could still see her eyes. Or rather what was left from them, gaping holes beneath strangely clean glasses.

Every part of her body, every piece of clothing was sprinkled with blood, tainted red, except for the glasses. It felt as if someone had made sure to put them to the side before putting her through this ordeal only to press them back onto her nose after everything was done, maybe even adjusting them like a piece décor. It was a horrifying idea, maybe the most horrifying of them all.

It meant that there was reasoning behind this scene, no passion or quiet regret but cold logic. It meant that this scene was meant to shock, meant to be displayed like a bizarre freak show.

Then there was the smell. Too sweet to be pleasant, too sour to be anything other than rotten and dead. Horribly dead, just like the boy in the woods.

Dipper bent over to throw up, only then realising that there wasn’t enough food in his stomach. He coughed and spit and gagged to no avail, throat burning from the rising bits of stomach acid, legs weak, and it was even worse than vomiting.

It was then, shaky gaze focused on the floor, that he noticed the locks of hair lying around the floor, lying in puddles of blood. Ringlets that might have been dark blond once. He forced himself to look up, to straighten his trembling body.

Candy wasn’t the only victim. The girl at the reception hadn’t been that lucky either, only that she was hardly identifiable. There were no real body parts to speak of. Here a lump that might have been a leg once, there the white outline of a bone once part of muscles and flesh. There was red, though. Red spilled over the blanket, red filling Mabel’s open suitcase. Red sweaters and red magazines.

It wasn’t like a blockbuster. No one was screaming, no one was piercing through the silence with the confidently spoken words of someone who knew what to do. Silence. Dipper might have been able to tell himself he had come alone after all.

“N-no…” Mabel made a noise halfway between hiss and sob. Out of the corner of his eye Dipper could see that she had pressed her eyes together, hands balled into fists trembling by her sides. She didn’t look as if she were able to stay in this room but she didn’t look as if she were able to walk away either. Tears like shiny raindrops were rolling down her cheeks, gathering at her chin only to fall and merge with her green shirt a few moments later.

It made Dipper’s heart twist all the more. Worst of all, he didn’t know if he could be strong enough for the both of them.

He had liked Candy well enough and he knew if he weren’t sleep-deprived and stressed and utterly scared, he would have burst into tears just as well. Though, he had hardly seen her in those last twenty years and as it was, he didn’t feel more than a dull pang in his chest. What transformed that pang into a burning pain was the knowledge that Mabel had lost one of her very best friends, only shortly after escaping her own eventual demise, and _it just wasn’t fair_!

Dipper’s vision grew blurry but he knew he couldn’t cry, he mustn’t. He blinked, breathing through his mouth instead of his nose, and blinked a bit more until the lines of the room got sharp again.

The only one who didn’t seem fazed by the scene was Bill.

He wasn’t grinning but he also wasn’t a weeping or shaking mess, far from that actually. His face was devoid of all emotion, as blank as it could get without even a silver of a crack. It didn’t even seem as if his breathing or pulse had quickened. His brows were vaguely drawn together even though that could have been Dipper’s imagination just as well. Beneath them, his eyes were observing the room with such a cold expression it made him shiver.

“Well, well, well… that’s what Tommy had been up to,” he muttered, a strange spark in his voice. “I should have known it, that’s just like him. And you would have thought a demon relying on shadows isn’t big on putting on a show…”

He gave a low snort, shaking his head as if he had been personally attacked.

It had been quite a while since Dipper had last felt such a burning desire to punch him straight in his face and for a second he actually considered doing so. Then Bill shrugged, walking forward with calm steps as if there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Miraculously, he managed to dodge the numberless pools of blood and bodily fluids while traversing the room. It looked as if it didn’t cost him any effort at all.

Dipper couldn’t help but feel a flicker of amazement in the swirl of darkness occupying his mind. He wanted to say something but every time he tried to open his mouth the words seemed to fade from his tongue. It took him three attempts to finally speak. He would have liked to take pride in a strong and determined voice but it sadly resembled more a croak.

“W-what are you doing, Bill?”

“Ha!” Bill was standing right in front of Candy’s corpse now, covering her with his back, and a part of Dipper was oddly thankful. When he leaned down, getting closer to what must be rotting flesh and trickling blood, Dipper had to repress the urge to gag again. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it.”

_What?!_

Unable to speak, lest he might throw up after all, Dipper had to settle on a confused glare.

However, when Bill turned around again Dipper’s eyes widened, the confusion vanishing. He was holding a piece of paper into the air, its corners blood-soaked after lying in Candy’s lap for what must have been an hour at least.

At first Dipper thought the red spots were only more specks of blood. Though, as Bill began to return to them, steps confident and an oddly out of place smirk grazing his lips, Dipper realised that it might be blood, yes, but it wasn’t a mindless mess.

It was a letter.

~

_Imagine my surprise when I found my cave empty._

_Let me tell you I don’t like losing what would have been an exquisite meal, one I had been looking forward to at that. You’re smart, I give you that, Mabel and Dipper Pines._

_Nevertheless, you will die. My ego forbids me to let you live, I’m sure you’ll understand that._

_Meet me in the forest when the sun leaves the horizon. I’ll kill another one of the townspeople every day you keep me waiting. I HATE WAITING._

_Sincerely,_

_Tom_

_PS: Don’t wear lavender. I HATE LAVENDER._

_PPS: Greetings to my friend Bill Cipher._

~

~

~


End file.
